Who’s that spectre slapping lather on my cheeks

shaving-photography-black and white

I step out my steaming shower
and wipe mist from my shaving mirror.

Who’s that spectre slapping lather
on my cheeks with bony fingers?

He’s the Ghost of Present Tense,
although he haunts the past and future.

When he brandishes his razor,
I grin and offer him my throat.

– Richard Cecil


References/Credits:


Aching, aching, aching

man, face,portrait,black and white, close-up,stare

There is within me a thing that is aching, aching, aching always as the days pass.

—Mary MacLane


Credits: Poem – Sleepwalking.nu from Mary MacLane’s book , “I Await The Devil’s Coming”. Photograph: Bill Moore


I’ve never regretted anything so much

italo-calvino

“I would like this to signal the end of “wasted angst” in my life: I’ve never regretted anything so much as having particular individual worries, in a certain sense anachronistic ones, whereas general worries, worries about our time (or at any rate those that can be reduced to such: like your problem in paying the rent, for instance) are so many and so vast and so much “my own” that I feel they are enough to fill all my “worryability” and even my interest and enjoyment in living. So from now on I want to dedicate myself entirely to these latter (worries) — but I am already aware of the traps in this question and that’s why for some time now my first need has been to “de-journalistize” myself, to get myself out of the stranglehold that has dominated these last few years of my life, reading books to review immediately, commenting on something even before having to time to form an opinion on it. I want to build a new kind of daily program for myself where I can finally get into something, something definitive (within the limits of historical possibility), something not dishonest or insincere (unlike the way today’s journalist always behaves, more or less). For that reason I make several plans for myself: … to maintain my contacts with reality and the world, but being careful, of course, not to get lost in unnecessary activities; and also to set up my own individual work not as a “journalist” any more but as a “scholar,” with systematic readings, notes, comments, notebooks, a load of things I’ve never done; and also, eventually, to write a novel.”

~ Italo Calvino


Italo Calvino (1923 – 1985) was an Italian journalist and writer of short stories and novels. His best known works include the Our Ancestors trilogy (1952–1959), the Cosmicomics collection of short stories (1965), and the novels Invisible Cities (1972) and If on a winter’s night a traveler (1979). Lionised in Britain and the United States, he was the most-translated contemporary Italian writer at the time of his death, and a noted contender for the Nobel Prize for Literature.


Image: abebooks. Bio: Wiki

Oops. Too late. (again)

thoughts-funny-think


Source: designspiration

Running. To…Away From 10.

mind-servant-master-quotes
I finished the post last Sunday.
It was titled “Running. To 10.”
567 words.
~ 50 minutes of prep.
The cursor lingered over the “PUBLISH” button.
My index finger hung over “ENTER” on the keyboard. (Pulse quickening. Typos? Is this Good Enough?)

I eased back my finger. (Your gut.  It’s usually right.)
I sent an email copy to Rachel who’s home on Fall break.
Blah. Blah. Blah. Dull. Re-run. Tired. Been there. Done that. One trick pony. Is that all you got?
Carpet-bombed by my own offspring.
Don’t you think that’s a bit harsh?
“Dad, you asked.  If you didn’t want to know, you shouldn’t have asked.”
I laugh. (I built this creature. Chip off the ol’ block.) Continue reading “Running. To…Away From 10.”