tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-79096549066107544532024-03-13T16:51:33.840-04:00Whole that Involves a Remainder"By a singular logic, the amorous subject perceives the other as a Whole (in the fashion of Paris on an autumn afternoon), and, at the same time, this Whole seems to him to involve a remainder, which he cannot express."
- Roland Barthes, A Lover's Discourse: Fragmentshfhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06346912927512056167noreply@blogger.comBlogger26125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7909654906610754453.post-2126382752918542642010-07-06T17:42:00.010-04:002010-07-07T20:19:58.171-04:00why is it better to last than to burn?<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_O4PsoN3JVGc/TDOtF1dIa4I/AAAAAAAAALU/poetQTEWR0M/s1600/barthes.jpg"><span style="font-family:georgia;"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 136px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 200px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5490922686454983554" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_O4PsoN3JVGc/TDOtF1dIa4I/AAAAAAAAALU/poetQTEWR0M/s200/barthes.jpg" /></span></a><span style="font-family:georgia;"><br /></span><div><span style="font-family:georgia;">it's a year to the day since i posted anything on this blog. so much has come full circle and as 'they' say "the more things change, the more they stay the same," so i am just about certain i write this for myself alone, and perhaps for the internet vagabond who makes a stop here while traveling a google search.</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:georgia;"></span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:georgia;">funny thing (but perhaps not so surprising), i find myself reading a henry miller book at the moment. a book about books, "the books in my life," and already have more than a handful of quotes to deposit here. however, i will save them for some other day, or some other year, or some other place, like the bookshelf where i can readily retrieve them without the help of a url.</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:georgia;"></span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:georgia;">instead i'll share this, from the author who lent me the title for this blog:</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:georgia;"></span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:georgia;">"The world subjects every enterprise to an alternative; that of success or failure, of victory or defeat. I protest by another logic: I am simultaneously and contradictorily happy and wretched; "to succeed" or "to fail" have for me only contingent, provisional meanings (which doesn't keep my sufferings and my desires from being violent); what inspires me, secretly and stubbornly, is not a tactic: I accept and I affirm, beyond truth and falsehood, beyond success and failure; I have withdrawn from all finality, I live according to chance (as is evidenced by the fact that the figures of my discourse occur to me like so many dice casts). Flouted in my enterprise (as it happens), I emerge from it neither victor nor vanquished: I am tragic.</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:georgia;">(Someone tells me: this kind of love is not viable. But how can you <em>evaluate</em> viability? Why is the viable a Good Thing? Why is it better to <em>last</em> than to <em>burn</em>?) </span></div><div> </div><div></div><div>-Roland Barthes</div><div><em>A Lover's Discourse: Fragments</em></div>hfhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06346912927512056167noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7909654906610754453.post-4527943511656207282009-07-06T12:34:00.002-04:002009-07-06T12:44:00.854-04:00the art of writing<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_O4PsoN3JVGc/SlIpl8A_qxI/AAAAAAAAALI/2bhNDblVsJA/s1600-h/anais.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5355388638639139602" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 193px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_O4PsoN3JVGc/SlIpl8A_qxI/AAAAAAAAALI/2bhNDblVsJA/s200/anais.jpg" border="0" /></a> <div><span style="font-family:georgia;">"There is no mystery in the art of writing, but the miracle by which a living emotion is captured without dying in the process is a mystery unless one accepts that to translate a living emotion into words, the emotion must be strong enough to survive the transplantation, and this means strong roots in the base of our emotional nature. Only then is writing effective and contagious.</span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:georgia;">- Anaïs Nin</span><br /></div><div><em><span style="font-family:georgia;">The Novel of the Future</span></em></div>hfhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06346912927512056167noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7909654906610754453.post-79359375148940347832009-06-30T13:25:00.017-04:002009-06-30T13:51:19.196-04:00manhattan mardi matin<div align="center">...and the city</div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5353175655756623218" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_O4PsoN3JVGc/SkpM5YWkbXI/AAAAAAAAAJw/o_OBqQ-JmPo/s320/skyline.jpg" border="0" /> <p align="center">the kids are all fine<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_O4PsoN3JVGc/SkpNWKoyIdI/AAAAAAAAAKg/ZQ5AaYl80WU/s1600-h/eating.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5353176150291128786" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_O4PsoN3JVGc/SkpNWKoyIdI/AAAAAAAAAKg/ZQ5AaYl80WU/s320/eating.jpg" border="0" /></a> <img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5353177419644266802" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 242px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_O4PsoN3JVGc/SkpOgDWJ6TI/AAAAAAAAAK4/_HmR7_0jlKk/s320/staying.jpg" border="0" /> but mom is still vigilant <a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_O4PsoN3JVGc/SkpNaFKKkvI/AAAAAAAAAKo/6nFbzIKwh0g/s1600-h/vigilant.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5353176217540006642" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 242px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_O4PsoN3JVGc/SkpNaFKKkvI/AAAAAAAAAKo/6nFbzIKwh0g/s320/vigilant.jpg" border="0" /></a></p><div align="center">eastside<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_O4PsoN3JVGc/SkpM9htL9EI/AAAAAAAAAJ4/RbsaHuQ_z8M/s1600-h/looking+east.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5353175726986884162" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_O4PsoN3JVGc/SkpM9htL9EI/AAAAAAAAAJ4/RbsaHuQ_z8M/s320/looking+east.jpg" border="0" /></a> the black-crowned night heron<br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_O4PsoN3JVGc/SkpNGEurVfI/AAAAAAAAAKI/PSQVbpyy4_E/s1600-h/heron1.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5353175873827329522" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 242px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_O4PsoN3JVGc/SkpNGEurVfI/AAAAAAAAAKI/PSQVbpyy4_E/s320/heron1.jpg" border="0" /></a> <em>Nycticorax nycticorax</em><br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_O4PsoN3JVGc/SkpNC1KqWOI/AAAAAAAAAKA/3V7BGGtVlY0/s1600-h/heron2.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5353175818110130402" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 242px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_O4PsoN3JVGc/SkpNC1KqWOI/AAAAAAAAAKA/3V7BGGtVlY0/s320/heron2.jpg" border="0" /></a> hf country lane<br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_O4PsoN3JVGc/SkpPD2eDSeI/AAAAAAAAALA/6TJ96sABoYk/s1600-h/pretend+country+lane.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5353178034663016930" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_O4PsoN3JVGc/SkpPD2eDSeI/AAAAAAAAALA/6TJ96sABoYk/s320/pretend+country+lane.jpg" border="0" /></a> "a wise man never ignores the simplicity of a child" </div><div align="center">- fortune cookie<br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_O4PsoN3JVGc/SkpNesACDqI/AAAAAAAAAKw/UxaAflME_Lo/s1600-h/suffer+the+children.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5353176296685964962" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_O4PsoN3JVGc/SkpNesACDqI/AAAAAAAAAKw/UxaAflME_Lo/s320/suffer+the+children.jpg" border="0" /></a><br />all photos by blackberry</div>hfhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06346912927512056167noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7909654906610754453.post-34708794692796579682009-06-29T10:38:00.011-04:002009-06-29T13:58:55.538-04:00the realm of the marvelous<div align="left"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_O4PsoN3JVGc/SkjXRwlCFFI/AAAAAAAAAJo/zVyvAq2kAeE/s1600-h/le+miroir.bmp"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5352764857227809874" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 148px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_O4PsoN3JVGc/SkjXRwlCFFI/AAAAAAAAAJo/zVyvAq2kAeE/s200/le+miroir.bmp" border="0" /></a> "He who wishes to attain the profoundly marvelous must free images from their conventional associations, associations always dominated by utilitarian judgment: must learn to see the man behind the social function, break the scale of so-called normal values, replacing it by that of sensitive values, surmount taboos, the weight of ancestral prohibitions, cease to connect the object with the profit one can get out of it, with the price it has in society, with the action it commands. This liberation begins when by some means the voluntary censorship of the bad conscience is lifted, when the mechanism of the dream is no longer <em>impeded</em>. Magic ceremonies, psychic exercises leading to concentration and ecstasy, the liberation of psychic automatism, are so many means capable of refining vision through the tensions they induce. <em>It is a means to enlarge faculties</em>: they are ways of approach to the realm of the marvelous."<br /><br />- Pierre Mabille<br /><em>Mirror of the Marvelous</em> </div><div align="left"></div><div align="left"></div><div align="left"></div><div align="left"></div><div align="left"></div><div align="center">currently residing in central park</div><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_O4PsoN3JVGc/SkjVzro-rHI/AAAAAAAAAJI/K6G8ysf_tgI/s1600-h/family+of+six.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5352763240994483314" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_O4PsoN3JVGc/SkjVzro-rHI/AAAAAAAAAJI/K6G8ysf_tgI/s400/family+of+six.jpg" border="0" /> <p align="center"></a></p><p align="center">the practice of leaving<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_O4PsoN3JVGc/SkjWFjzsjDI/AAAAAAAAAJQ/ap8jJMwqWRM/s1600-h/explorer.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5352763548129594418" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_O4PsoN3JVGc/SkjWFjzsjDI/AAAAAAAAAJQ/ap8jJMwqWRM/s400/explorer.jpg" border="0" /> </p><p align="center"></a>mammatus over brooklyn<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_O4PsoN3JVGc/SkjWZixP31I/AAAAAAAAAJY/CpuqLGWdw5U/s1600-h/mammatus.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5352763891448274770" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_O4PsoN3JVGc/SkjWZixP31I/AAAAAAAAAJY/CpuqLGWdw5U/s400/mammatus.jpg" border="0" /> </p><p align="center"></a>stopped in for a budweiser with the regulars at the Liffy II Bar <a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_O4PsoN3JVGc/SkjWhogeH2I/AAAAAAAAAJg/oasLQVdpgdc/s1600-h/just+another+regular.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5352764030427471714" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_O4PsoN3JVGc/SkjWhogeH2I/AAAAAAAAAJg/oasLQVdpgdc/s400/just+another+regular.jpg" border="0" /></a> all photos by blackberry</p>hfhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06346912927512056167noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7909654906610754453.post-59476543664917840272009-06-23T10:42:00.006-04:002009-06-23T11:00:19.561-04:00academia<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_O4PsoN3JVGc/SkDrzZVJUmI/AAAAAAAAAIw/sLulwPv-Img/s1600-h/jd.bmp"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5350535625521582690" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 146px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_O4PsoN3JVGc/SkDrzZVJUmI/AAAAAAAAAIw/sLulwPv-Img/s200/jd.bmp" border="0" /></a> Nervously, and without any real need whatever, Franny pushed back her hair with one hand. "I don't think it would have all got me quite so down if just once in a while - just <em>once</em> in a while - there was at least some polite little per<em>funct</em>ory implication that knowledge <em>should</em> lead to <em>wisdom</em>, and that if it <em>doesn't</em>, it's just a disgusting waste of time! But there never is! You never even hear any <em>hints</em> dropped on campus that wisdom is <em>supposed</em> to be the <em>goal</em> of knowledge. You hardly ever even hear the word 'wisdom' mentioned!"<br /><br /><div><div>- J.D. Salinger</div><div><em>Franny and Zooey</em></div></div>hfhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06346912927512056167noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7909654906610754453.post-48918225580808326812009-06-18T09:40:00.005-04:002009-06-18T09:49:19.974-04:00come on with the rain, i've a smile on my face<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_O4PsoN3JVGc/SjpD-zhSovI/AAAAAAAAAIg/Va0ld05-Grc/s1600-h/gene.bmp"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5348662253716677362" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_O4PsoN3JVGc/SjpD-zhSovI/AAAAAAAAAIg/Va0ld05-Grc/s400/gene.bmp" border="0" /></a> <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rmCpOKtN8ME">http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rmCpOKtN8ME</a><br /><div></div>hfhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06346912927512056167noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7909654906610754453.post-33501691320170376172009-06-17T12:33:00.002-04:002009-06-17T12:35:01.077-04:00getting to work via a fairy tale<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_O4PsoN3JVGc/SjkbFSFyGTI/AAAAAAAAAIY/sYrg070GO-Y/s1600-h/tuesday+morning+walk.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5348335810048563506" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_O4PsoN3JVGc/SjkbFSFyGTI/AAAAAAAAAIY/sYrg070GO-Y/s400/tuesday+morning+walk.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div></div>hfhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06346912927512056167noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7909654906610754453.post-37693850165685133872009-06-16T10:55:00.008-04:002009-06-16T11:30:07.372-04:00fine and mellow, indeed<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_O4PsoN3JVGc/Sje6SLnQmQI/AAAAAAAAAIQ/Zx7Qi_ZmphQ/s1600-h/billie.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5347947904043620610" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 278px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_O4PsoN3JVGc/Sje6SLnQmQI/AAAAAAAAAIQ/Zx7Qi_ZmphQ/s400/billie.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-I2a5AJUk7M">http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-I2a5AJUk7M</a>hfhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06346912927512056167noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7909654906610754453.post-5126435479395241072009-06-12T12:55:00.014-04:002009-06-12T14:11:31.975-04:00manhattan commutes - par le piedwest side mist<br /><div><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_O4PsoN3JVGc/SjKU7T7EcwI/AAAAAAAAAHI/-bxJ8p7LbBM/s1600-h/misty+west+side.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5346499454323421954" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_O4PsoN3JVGc/SjKU7T7EcwI/AAAAAAAAAHI/-bxJ8p7LbBM/s320/misty+west+side.jpg" border="0" /></a><br />favorite morning walk<br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_O4PsoN3JVGc/SjKV8DJDk0I/AAAAAAAAAH4/x6fCeL2gEJU/s1600-h/rainy+perimeter.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5346500566510179138" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_O4PsoN3JVGc/SjKV8DJDk0I/AAAAAAAAAH4/x6fCeL2gEJU/s320/rainy+perimeter.jpg" border="0" /></a> </div><div><div>north woods waterfall<br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_O4PsoN3JVGc/SjKVKfvAL8I/AAAAAAAAAHg/6QeW82wgU3U/s1600-h/waterfall.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5346499715192074178" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_O4PsoN3JVGc/SjKVKfvAL8I/AAAAAAAAAHg/6QeW82wgU3U/s320/waterfall.jpg" border="0" /></a><br />ramblin' woman<br /><div><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_O4PsoN3JVGc/SjKVG3OS7xI/AAAAAAAAAHY/j_GYrBTuHgw/s1600-h/ramblin.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5346499652777864978" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_O4PsoN3JVGc/SjKVG3OS7xI/AAAAAAAAAHY/j_GYrBTuHgw/s320/ramblin.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /></div><div>winter sky</div><div><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_O4PsoN3JVGc/SjKVaLuhO9I/AAAAAAAAAHo/jRtd7dhSDdQ/s1600-h/cloudy+skyline.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5346499984699243474" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_O4PsoN3JVGc/SjKVaLuhO9I/AAAAAAAAAHo/jRtd7dhSDdQ/s320/cloudy+skyline.jpg" border="0" /></a><br />home sweet home<br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_O4PsoN3JVGc/SjKVdxP3qMI/AAAAAAAAAHw/aqTuTVgjALo/s1600-h/inwood+winter.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5346500046310844610" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_O4PsoN3JVGc/SjKVdxP3qMI/AAAAAAAAAHw/aqTuTVgjALo/s320/inwood+winter.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div>-all photos by blackberry</div></div></div></div>hfhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06346912927512056167noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7909654906610754453.post-75256969668752391992009-06-12T11:24:00.005-04:002009-06-16T11:39:28.817-04:00catching wild deer<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_O4PsoN3JVGc/SjJ0Hwd3SzI/AAAAAAAAAHA/6u9rduXMvDQ/s1600-h/id_320_durrel.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5346463384260266802" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 192px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_O4PsoN3JVGc/SjJ0Hwd3SzI/AAAAAAAAAHA/6u9rduXMvDQ/s200/id_320_durrel.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div>"Poetry turned out to be an invaluable mistress. Because poetry is form, and the wooing and seduction of form is the whole game. You can have all the apparatus in the world, but what you finally need is something like a - I dont' know what - a lasso...a very delicate thing, for catching wild deer. Oh, no, I'll give you an analogy for it. To write a poem is like trying to catch a lizard without its tail falling off."</div><br /><div></div><br /><div>- Lawrence Durrell</div><div>from an interview in The Paris Review</div><div>Issue 22, Autumn-Winter 1959-1960</div>hfhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06346912927512056167noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7909654906610754453.post-40650652753962012482009-06-11T10:31:00.001-04:002009-06-11T10:37:47.144-04:00if love were only a feeling<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_O4PsoN3JVGc/SjEWRwyGlEI/AAAAAAAAAG4/iK1zJ2byA2U/s1600-h/erich+fromm.bmp"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5346078727074124866" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 152px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_O4PsoN3JVGc/SjEWRwyGlEI/AAAAAAAAAG4/iK1zJ2byA2U/s200/erich+fromm.bmp" border="0" /></a><br /><div>"One neglects to see an important factor in erotic love, that of <em>will</em>. To love somebody is not just a strong feeling - it is a decision, it is a judgment, it is a promise. If love were only a feeling, there would be no basis for the promise to love each other forever. A feeling comes and it may go. How can I judge that it will stay forever, when my act does not involve judgment and decision?"</div><p>- Erich Fromm</p><p><em>The Art of Loving</em></p>hfhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06346912927512056167noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7909654906610754453.post-74040609889612058892009-02-12T12:38:00.000-05:002009-02-12T12:46:41.862-05:00dwindled from disuse<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_O4PsoN3JVGc/SZRgDU9k2GI/AAAAAAAAAGI/odSNLWE7kfQ/s1600-h/henry+on+beach.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5301968271604766818" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 136px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_O4PsoN3JVGc/SZRgDU9k2GI/AAAAAAAAAGI/odSNLWE7kfQ/s200/henry+on+beach.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div>"I saw in every phase and moment of his pitiful weakness the utter wretch I had been, the blackguard, nothing less, who had striven so vainly and ignominiously to protect his miserable little heart. I saw that it never had been broken, as I imagined, but that paralyzed by fear, it had shrunk almost to nothingness. I saw that the grievous wounds which had brought me low had all been received in a senseless effort to prevent this shriveled heart from breaking. The heart itself had never been touched; it had dwindled from disuse."</div><br /><div>-Henry Miller<br /></div><div><em>Nexus</em></div>hfhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06346912927512056167noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7909654906610754453.post-3331672634468504292009-02-04T10:30:00.000-05:002009-02-04T10:42:27.598-05:00our chief fear"With the desire for creation comes the fear of being born. As life is taken up into art, so art is being converted into life. And the birth through creation is analogous to the birth of the self. To create is to become whole and separate, independent, but this indepence is also our chief fear."<br /><br />- William A. Gordon<br /><em>The Mind and Art of Henry Miller</em>hfhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06346912927512056167noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7909654906610754453.post-23881011177103526932009-01-30T19:57:00.000-05:002009-01-30T20:32:57.496-05:00whimsical patience<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_O4PsoN3JVGc/SYOqBw4a8VI/AAAAAAAAAF4/kFCBwz1bYjM/s1600-h/Nerval.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5297264533995974994" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 155px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_O4PsoN3JVGc/SYOqBw4a8VI/AAAAAAAAAF4/kFCBwz1bYjM/s200/Nerval.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_O4PsoN3JVGc/SYOoX71mhCI/AAAAAAAAAFo/MRB85iXQccQ/s1600-h/Nerval.jpg"></a>"We climbed a long series of flights of steps to a vantage point where the view opened out before us. Here and there could be seen terraces enclosed by latticework; tiny, well-tended gardens in some level spots: rooftops and light, airy wooden pavilions painted and carved with whimsical patience."<br /><br /><div><div><div>- Gérard de Nerval</div><div></div><br /><div><em>Aurélia<br /></div></em><div> </div></div></div></div>hfhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06346912927512056167noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7909654906610754453.post-86422101911933473272009-01-28T00:04:00.000-05:002009-01-30T20:33:15.049-05:00caught inside<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_O4PsoN3JVGc/SYOp1u9JtJI/AAAAAAAAAFw/DWj7kg1lLYw/s1600-h/celine.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5297264327320515730" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 180px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_O4PsoN3JVGc/SYOp1u9JtJI/AAAAAAAAAFw/DWj7kg1lLYw/s200/celine.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div>"People have plenty of pity in them for the infirm and the blind, they really have love in reserve. I'd often sensed that love they have in reserve. There's an enormous lot of it, and no one can say different. But it's a shame that people should go on being crummy with so much love in reserve. It just doesn't come out, that's all. It's caught inside and there it stays, it doesn't do them a bit of good. They die of love inside."<br /><br />-Louis-Ferdinand Céline</div><br /><div><em>Journey to the End of the Night</em> </div>hfhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06346912927512056167noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7909654906610754453.post-38045520785664504892008-10-08T21:10:00.000-04:002009-01-30T20:35:36.511-05:00a tidal wave<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_O4PsoN3JVGc/SYOqvWnYUeI/AAAAAAAAAGA/yg--3GuxJsU/s1600-h/fowlie.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5297265317219160546" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 144px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 180px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_O4PsoN3JVGc/SYOqvWnYUeI/AAAAAAAAAGA/yg--3GuxJsU/s200/fowlie.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div>Suffering - bodily suffering - is a great privilege. We lose courage so easily. Nothing is the same after suffering. There is a new shadow on everything, a new depth in our words and in the color of the sky. How foolish it is to try to resist suffering. What insignificant wretches we make ourselves into by not sitting still in the center of the suffering and uncovering our eyes. We have to learn how to go with suffering as with a great tidal wave that will take us toward a new world.<br /><br />- Wallace Fowlie in a letter to Henry Miller, 8 March 1945</div>hfhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06346912927512056167noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7909654906610754453.post-53069615616133627192008-10-06T11:11:00.000-04:002008-10-08T21:03:10.080-04:00dreamers with empty hands<a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4gSGgmQSoPo">http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4gSGgmQSoPo</a><br /><br />The dreamer seeks vainly to find form and shape that will fit his ethereal essence. Like a celestial tailor, he tries on one body after another, but they are all misfits. Finally he is obliged to return to his own body, to reassume the leaden mold, to become a prisoner of the flesh, to carry on in torpor, pain and ennui.<br /><br />- Henry Miller<br /><em>Sexus</em>hfhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06346912927512056167noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7909654906610754453.post-52537906066855658782008-09-30T20:03:00.000-04:002008-09-30T20:16:34.054-04:00musicSnatches of a quartet squirted from a cafe with scarlet awnings reminded me of Clea once saying: "Music was invented to confirm human loneliness."<br /><br />- Lawrence Durrell<br /><em>Clea</em>hfhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06346912927512056167noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7909654906610754453.post-7404077598998656882008-09-24T21:17:00.000-04:002008-09-30T20:17:29.546-04:00faith...the prodigious paradox of faith, a paradox that makes a murder into a holy and God-pleasing act, a paradox that gives Isaac back to Abraham again, which no thought can grasp, because faith begins precisely where thought stops...<br /><br />- Soren Kierkegaard<br /><em>Fear and Trembling</em>hfhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06346912927512056167noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7909654906610754453.post-12573037741695768582008-09-22T19:37:00.000-04:002008-09-22T19:44:53.310-04:00Jazz Club 2008<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_O4PsoN3JVGc/SNgtvgzRrII/AAAAAAAAADs/poh1VKXRXUM/s1600-h/P1080060.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5248995659982417026" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_O4PsoN3JVGc/SNgtvgzRrII/AAAAAAAAADs/poh1VKXRXUM/s320/P1080060.JPG" border="0" /></a> Photo: Meredith Machemer, chef, caterer and sometimes photographer<br /><div></div>hfhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06346912927512056167noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7909654906610754453.post-60686463748517179892008-09-17T12:21:00.000-04:002008-09-17T12:30:50.026-04:00freedom"I didn't know that freedom is not a reward or decoration that is celebrated with champagne. Nor yet a gift, a box of dainties designed to make you lick your chops. Oh, no! It's a chore, on the contrary, and a long-distance race, quite solitary and very exhausting."<br /><br />- Albert Camus<br /><em>The Fall</em>hfhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06346912927512056167noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7909654906610754453.post-69324225031501557912008-09-16T16:11:00.001-04:002008-09-16T16:12:33.060-04:00sunshine on a grey day<a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=t1zk3OsIPus&feature=related">http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=t1zk3OsIPus&feature=related</a>hfhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06346912927512056167noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7909654906610754453.post-16769691731976736452008-09-15T22:25:00.000-04:002008-09-15T22:26:08.849-04:00big pictures...<a href="http://www.boston.com/bigpicture/">http://www.boston.com/bigpicture/</a>hfhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06346912927512056167noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7909654906610754453.post-65522123173129990872008-09-15T12:10:00.000-04:002008-09-15T12:15:45.719-04:00the old ethic"He climbed out of the valley, wondering if he were mad. But if so, he preferred his own madness, to the regular sanity. He rejoiced in his own madness, he was free. He did not want that old sanity of the world, which was become so repulsive. He rejoiced in the new-found world of his madness. It was so fresh and delicate and so satisfying.<br /><br />As for the certain grief he felt at the same time, in his soul, that was only the remains of an old ethic, that bade a human being adhere to humanity. But he was weary of the old ethic, of the human being, and of humanity."<br /><br />-D.H. Lawrence<br /><em>Women in Love</em>hfhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06346912927512056167noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7909654906610754453.post-56441523622584485912008-09-14T12:18:00.000-04:002008-09-14T12:27:36.544-04:00release"Whether it is a good thing or a bad thing, smashing things is also sometimes very pleasant."<br /><br />- Fyodor Dostoyevsky<br /><em>Notes from Underground</em>hfhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06346912927512056167noreply@blogger.com1