If I were in Meligalas, and you and I were enjoying the sunset amid the vaporous old olive grove, I wonder what we would talk about, or if we would talk at all. Who knows — despite our shared philosophy of no extra words, we might find ourselves blabbing well into the night, a fire between us setting our faces aglow. Here’s a subject for you: “How to cultivate white […]
Your welcome birthday letter makes me wonder again about just how long we’ve been writing to each other. I can’t remember: did our exchange begin during the writing of One Hand Clapping, or did you stumble on that windy journal sometime after it was completed? All I know for certain is that I was grateful then, and am even more so now. That we know each other entirely through words, […]
You won’t be surprised to hear that our eldest son, avid reader and collector that he is, offered to take me to Robert’s Bookshop in anticipation of my birthday. We enjoyed a beautiful Sunday-morning drive to the coast, through the lush spring mountain greenery, and arrived almost immediately upon their opening. As soon as we stepped inside and inhaled the old book smell, we felt the same rush of excitement […]
How nice it would be if our letters were the old-fashioned paper kind. As it is, having a mailbox these days is hardly justified. Our carrier, as I said a while back, is friendly; I’m sure he’d understand if I removed ours, or at least find it humorous. He can leave the advertisements on our front step if he likes; or I can place the recycling bin at the end […]
So it goes, my dear butterfly. I write to tell you what you already know: I’m still glad to wake up in the morning, and my days, however seemingly ordinary, are full. I have a small cup of coffee, then go out for a walk before sunrise. This is followed by a few stretching and breathing exercises, which I do here in the library while looking out the big front […]
Do not listen to the ministers of failure, who promise redemption for their imagined sins. Did Walt Whitman really write these words? In a sense, yes, because, whether those of us engaged in literary pursuits are aware of it or not, his influence is so great and so profound that it’s inevitable, at one time or another, we take up the pen in his name. Not only Whitman, of course; […]
As a father, I know that there is at least one good thing I have done for our four children, and that was teaching them, by daily example, the value and fun of wordplay. And to this day, now in their thirties and forties, their conversation is vital and alive with puns and ridiculous combinations of words and meanings. They can read something like Letters and Figs without missing a […]
Although these days by all appearances I write very little, the fact is, I’m writing as much as ever or more. But instead of publishing that writing here, or anywhere else online, I’m leaving it, in all its inky and papery glory, snug and secure in my journal. I add something every day, sometimes as many as three or four pages. I enjoy doing it. It gives me a good […]
This time of year, in the dark, cavernous space behind North Falls, one must shout to be heard — such is the thunder generated by the water landing on the rocks below. But shout about what? Oddly enough, we met a raven there and stood within three feet of the bird, which, if my interpretation was correct, was amused by our presence. A hundred feet farther along the trail, we […]
As noted then in these pages, my brother, Kirk, died two years ago today — an interval which seems much more like one expansive, all-encompassing breath. I see, meanwhile, that it’s been almost a month since I last wrote. During that time, I’ve felt neither the urge nor the need. And I don’t feel it now. What I do feel is the arrival of spring. Why, then, am I writing? […]
William Michaelian 