Footfall to the Nth degree equals Thunder. Such is the startling extent of my mathematical prowess. What I learn from this is that my writing is not of a loud, urban nature, and never will be. Everything is quiet and cushioned with moss. Where the acorn falls, an oak is allowed to grow. I am as old as the hills; a babe in arms; a satisfied smile after a bowl […]
Afternoon. Another day, another used bookstore. Don Quixote: Ozell’s Revision of the Translation by Peter Motteux. Introduction by Herschel Brickell, written in 1930 and revised in 1938. The Modern Library, New York. Contains illustrations. The Poetical Works of Mrs. Felicia Hemans. Prefatory Notice by William Michael Rossetti. Thomas Y. Crowell & Co., New York, circa 1900. The Complete Notebooks of Henry James: The Authoritative and Definitive Edition. Edited with introductions […]
A quiet, meditative morning, passed mostly tending to household chores. Afternoon. A walk in the sun. On his hands and knees, the almost-eighty-seven-year-old woodcutter was pulling his neighbor’s weeds. . The Rambler, Numb. 14. Tuesday, May 1, 1750. Secrets — to tell, or not to tell. The rules therefore that I shall propose concerning secrecy, and from which I think it not safe to deviate, without long and exact deliberation, […]
Fifty-eight degrees. A light, steady rain. Smoke. A four o’clock run. I don’t care to be in a room full of noisy people. A room full of quiet people, I can appreciate and enjoy. People are at their best when they’re quiet. I can move about among them as I move about among rocks and trees, loving them softly, without needing, seeking, or expecting love in return. But I love […]
William Michaelian 