The dirt resists you. It is very hard to make the earth your own. I’ve done much less to try to make it mine. All my association with it is a kind of freedom. Yet it’s hard to live at the ranch. When I first came here I had to go 70 miles on a dirt road for supplies. Nobody would go by in two weeks. I thought the ranch would be good for me because nothing can grow here and I wouldn’t be able to use up my time gardening. But I got tired of canned vegetables so now I grow everything I need for the year at Abiquiu. I like to get up when the dawn comes. The dogs start talking to me and I like to make a fire and maybe some tea and then sit in bed and watch the sun come up. The morning is the best time, there are no people around. My pleasant disposition likes the world with nobody in it.
~ Georgia O’Keeffe
I shall not grow resigned.
With all my silence,
I shall protest to the very end.
There is no reason to say:
‘It had to be.’
It is my revolt which is right,
and it must follow this joy
which is like a pilgrim on earth,
follow it step by step.
— Albert Camus, Notebooks 1935-1942 Vol. 1
I did the rough math this morning.
Each morning on most working days,
and a number of evenings out,
aggregates to tying a neck tie 7,000 times.
The ritual is never preceded with a telephone chit chat.
Never with a high ball.
NEVER with a five o’clock shadow.
And certainly never with the Lumineers crooning Morning Song in the backdrop.
What the h*ll am I doing wrong? :)
People can’t agree on where coffee’s secret lies: opinions range from the smell, the color, the taste, the consistency, the blend, the cardamom, the roast, to the shape of the cup and a number of other things. For me, it’s the timing. The great thing about a perfectly timed cup of coffee is that it’s in your hand the instant you crave it. One of life’s most exquisite moments is that in which a small luxury becomes a necessity.
Poets must read and study, but also they must learn to tilt and whisper, shout, or dance, each in his or her own way, or we might just as well copy the old books. But, no, that would never do, for always the new self swimming around in the old world feels itself uniquely verbal. And that is just the point: how the world, moist and bountiful, calls to each of us to make a new and serious response. That’s the big question, the one the world throws at you every morning. “Here you are, alive. Would you like to make a comment?” This book is my comment.
~ Mary Oliver, Long Life: Essays and Other Writings
Notes: 1) MMM* = Monday Morning Mantra. 2) Turned Sheet (1965) by Gerhard Richter via vjeranski