(fleeting)


#

When it comes to Covid, I’m starting to feel like a final girl.

#

Now playing:

cover image for the album A Light for Attracting Attention by the Radiohead-adjacent band The Smile, showing what appears to be a cartoon rendering of a map of a large lake or inland sea with tributaries and rivers flowing in and out, and several stylized rainbow-colored mountain ranges or hills; a compass rose or red sun occupies the top right corner
#

Ah ha! The mystery package arrived yesterday afternoon, two days early. I had managed, eventually, to work out what it probably was before it arrived, but I still had my doubts.

image of the book Dancing with the Dead: the Essential Red Pine Translations, published by Copper Canyon Press
#

Now playing:

Cover image for Nils Frahm's album Music For Animals, showing a lake in the background and an arm in silhouette holding a plastic bag with water and a small fish; the water in the bag lines up with the horizon in the distance; the sun is reflected in the surface of the lake but the arm blocks our view of it
#

Nothing like receiving a shipment notification for something you bought so long ago, you don’t remember what it is. I guess I’ll find out on Friday.

#

If the past cannot teach the present and the father cannot teach the son, then history need not have bothered to go on, and the world has wasted a great deal of time.

—Russell Hoban, The Lion of Boaz-Jachin and Jachin-Boaz (1973)

#SA4QE

#

She sang the song very softly:

I do not like the way you slide,
I do not like your soft inside,
I do not like you lots of ways,
And I could do for many days
Without eggs.

“What did you say, Frances?” asked Father.

“Nothing,” said Frances, spreading jam on another slice of bread.

“Why do you keep eating bread and jam,” asked Father, “when you have a lovely soft-boiled egg?”

“One of the reasons I like bread and jam,” said Frances, “is that it does not slide off your spoon in a funny way.”

—Russell Hoban, Bread & Jam for Frances (1964)

#SA4QE

#

Russell Hoban, Riddley Walker:

Its some kynd of thing it aint us but yet its in us. Its looking out thru our eye hoals. May be you dont take no noatis of it only some times. Say you get woak up suddn in the middl of the nite. 1 minim youre a sleap and the nex youre on your feet with a spear in your han. Wel it werent you put that spear in your han it wer that other thing whats looking out thru your eye hoals. It aint you nor it dont even know your name. Its in us lorn and loan and sheltering how it can.

#SA4QE

#

…swimming, swimming, the eye held by the sun, no sharks in the mind, nothing in the mind.

—Russell Hoban, Turtle Diary (1975)

Picture of a passage from Russell Hoban's 1975 novel, Turtle Diary, printed on yellow paper and pinned to a fridge with sea turtle magnets. The quote reads: How do the turtles find Ascension Island? There are sharks in the water too. Some of the turtles get eaten by sharks. Do the turtles know about sharks? How do they not think about the sharks when they're swimming that 1,400 miles? Green turtles must have the kind of mind that doesn't think about sharks unless a shark is there. Sea turtles can't shut themselves up in their shells as land turtles do. Their shells are like tight bone vests and their flippers are always sticking out. Nothing they can do if a shark comes along. Pray. Ridiculous to think of a turtle praying with all those teeth coming up from below. ¶ I think of them swimming through all that golden-green water over the dark, over the chill of the deeps and the jaws of the dark. And I think of the sun over the water, the sun through the water, the eye holding the sun, being held by it with no thought and only the rhythm of the going, the steady wing-strokes of the flippers in the water. Then it doesn't seem so hard to believe. It seems the only way to do it, the only way in fact to be: swimming, swimming, the eye held by the sun, no sharks in the mind, nothing in the mind.

#SA4QE

Finished in January

#

The Children of Tantalus

#

They crave death, they crave sorrow. They fear the future, they fear the past, they fear time. A world that has already ended cannot change; a world that does not change cannot end. Their eternity is that of the flash. Statis, the instant, and eternity — they see these three as the same thing, and they see them as the ideal. Ideals. Ideas without bodies. They fear bodies and they crave living forever solely in ideas. They love ideas because they think ideas don’t change, and they fear bodies because bodies do nothing but change. The petulant glee in their actions. They are driven by a manic fear. They fear lines, they fear circles, and they especially fear spirals. To be starved for certainty but to never have it. To live with certainty always almost within reach but always just beyond your grasp.

#

Last, next.

91: Snowy Evening (15,902)
92: Kraft (graph)

Two Field Notes memo books side by side: one used, one new

Finished in December

#
#

Now playing:

Album cover for the Novak Quartet's recording of Bartók's six string quartets showing the overlapping shapes of two violins, a viola, and a cello, making a prismatic pattern in browns and oranges
#

A snowy morning, and a snowy day ahead.

predawn view of my backyard with every branch of every tree outlined in snow
#

Something just happened and, honestly, it’s taken me a few days for the reality of it to sink in. It’s of no consequence to almost anyone else, of course, but it’s rather a big deal to me.

Last week, I signed a contract with Unsolicited Press, which will be publishing my debut book of poetry.

More details soon, but first I need to attend to my chapbook, which will be coming out early next year.

#

I spent the better part of 1992 through 1994 writing thousands of lines in iambic pentameter. Maybe it’s time again. 2023, the year of blank verse?

#

It’s a Wayne Shorter evening.

“I Am Spartacus!”

#

You know that scene where Faye is mailing letters and she hears “That Thing You Do” on the radio and she and the bass player run down the street screaming like lunatics and then they all dance around Patterson’s appliance shop?

Yeah, that.

Details to follow.

#

Discarded email drafts account for probably 99% of everything I’ve ever written in my entire life.

#

Now playing:

Cover for the jazz album Juba Lee by the Avram Fefer Quartet: Avram Fefer, Marc Ribot, Eric Revis, and Chad Taylor; showing a black stylized slightly cartoonish illustration of a human figure on an orange background with arms outstretched, holding what appears to be a fan in one hand and a rattle or magnifying glass in the other, wearing a long tunic with many small crescent moons or birds like chainmail
#

This morning, my mind is like, um, it’s like, oh what’s the word? Something fancy and cool. And super smart. C’mon. Think. Quicksilver? A sieve? An abandoned power station?

#

RIP Tom Phillips.

#

Well. Isn’t that just some of the best news I can’t tell anyone yet.

#
blue sky marbled with high cirrus clouds; the contrail of a transcontinental airplane passing left to right in the lower right; a faint sundog barely visible in the upper left