Where Dragonflies Sleep starts my memory in so many agreeable directions, it would take hours to account for them all, if I ever came to the end. This brings to mind a question: is my memory infinite? Is it even possible to know? And what of ancestral memory, cultural memory, bodily memory, and the collective memory of our kind? And isn’t instinct a form of memory which, having existed for […]
Having been friends with Glen doesn’t make me a hero. And yet it occurs to me now that, in the pieces I’ve written about him, it’s possible I’ve portrayed myself as such, as if my survival of his death from cancer at the age of eighteen, were somehow more important than what he suffered and the price he and his family ultimately paid. And, other than the fact that he […]
Millions of people, changing their clocks, “falling back” to “standard time.” Aye, let us save, let us use, let us measure, let us lose, that which does not exist. . We can’t explain this great mystery; still, there are parts of it that we find amusing or interesting. . Read Bees and Their Keepers, by Lotte Möller, Pages 85-96. For the month of May: A Visit to Lennart and His […]
You’re free to join a political party, but remember, you’ll always pay for the punch. . We were enjoying a cool, quiet evening, our doors and windows open to a nice southwesterly breeze, when some neighbors upwind of us started smoking their supper in what must be one of those barrel-shaped contraptions that use chips or pellets or some such to “enhance” the flavor of whatever meat they’ve chosen to […]
Will I have any thoughts today that are original or worth remembering? Will I have any that are even necessary? Familiar chatter, recycled debris, replay of memory. Discussions on social media — there are those rare and beautiful times when they take on the spirit of an enlightened classroom, where everyone is teacher and everyone is student, and all questions and answers are respected and encouraged — rare, too, in […]
And then, one day, the setting moon was so bright and full, we really did change; but that was long ago — an hour or so, maybe less, maybe more. . [ 1784 ]
You haven’t changed a bit — ( those childhood years chiseled in stone pillar and bone time wears on ) . [ 1761 ]
As sure is pure is sour honey. As fine as grape is wine. As must is dust is dust as fine. As ash as flash is light to pass. As red as rose and ink is pose. As rain above is love below. As if as all one needs to know. As mine and yours as time. . * D’aussi sure qu’est la pureté l’est au miel citronné. Comme l’est […]
Measurement, time, comparison, definition — how quickly they fade when I step outside and face the rising sun with my eyes closed. Is reality real, is truth true, when I am suffused with a warm, yellow glow? . [ 1734 ]
When I was in fifth grade, I learned to play the trumpet. It was easy. Each week, when the music teacher asked me to play the current lesson, I went through the lines without error. I didn’t practice. One or two times through at the beginning of the week was all I needed. When I was in sixth grade, it was the same. Finally, the time came for me and […]
William Michaelian 