How could you
not love
the ground on which you walk?
~ Clarice Lispector, “The Buffalo” from The Complete Stories
Photo: Early morning walkers pass in Bal Harbour, Fla. (wsj.com by Wilfredo Lee)
Tag: Quotes
Saturday Morning
I’d like to walk there again.
It was so lonely — a nice kind of loneliness,
and all grass and clover and soft sea air.
– C.S. Lewis, The Voyage of the Dawn Treader, The Chronicles of Narnia
Source: Quote – Schonwiener. Photo: Newthom
Blogger’s Creed
I’ve never met Patricia Salamone and not sure how she found me. She left a comment on a post and it stuck.
“I married, raised 3 children, worked for many years and wrote in my spare time. Don’t ask me how I ever had spare time but it was mostly in the wee hours of the morning. I sent a few stories to magazines but they always got rejected. I continued to write but never sent anything in again. I wrote because I loved it. Then I retired, my children all finished University, got married and started families. I had plenty of time on my hands and a computer so I wrote, and I still write.
Although my writing is raw and I have not been schooled in writing, I did have a book published: The Italian Thing. It was not edited and it was my first try. It is a humorous memoir about a trip to Naro, Sicily and meeting our family members that live there, for the first time. We have many adventures and misadventures but in the end we had a marvelous and unforgettable trip.
…I write because I love it, and that’s good enough for me. I will probably will never make much money at it, but a few things were published and my words are out there forever even when I’m gone. I’m happy. :o)”
Thank you Patricia. For the inspiration.
Patricia’s a WordPress blogger at this handle: The Writers Desk.
Flaubert and Socks.
“My deplorable mania for analysis exhausts me. I doubt everything, even my doubt.”
It started with these words, Gustave Flaubert’s words in his letter to Louise Colet. And spiraled from there. A middle aged man crippled with analysis, dragging his lame foot behind him as he trudges ahead.
I run the math. 10 years in this house. 365 days a year. Deduct 500 days for vacation, travel, walking the floors au naturel. Round it. We’re talking 3000 discrete events. 3000 discrete events.
And as I sit pecking this post out, I couldn’t tell you if the drawer handle is circular or square, platinum color or brass, a smooth or a rough finish.
But for 3000 events, mostly mornings, with a few afternoon and evenings sprinkled in, I open the drawer, peer in, and stare at my socks. The first big decision of the day.
Color? Must match the pants. And because socks are put on first (Why? Just because) the decision is momentous – the first domino tripping the shirt, suit, tie and shoe selection. Like an algorithmic equation forced on a poet, I’m paralyzed by the complexity. A lab rat for Barry Schwartz’s Paradox of Choice.
Continue reading “Flaubert and Socks.”
T.G.I.F.: Eye on the Weekend
Source: My Modern Met: Audubon Photo Awards – Long-billed Thrasher. Top 100, Professional Category. Hector Astorga.