06.30.06
From Woolf’s Mrs. Dalloway
Beauty anyhow. Not the crude beauty of the eye. It was beauty pure and simple–Bedford Place leading into Russell Square. It was straightness and emptiness of course; the symmetry of a corridor; but it was also windows lit up, a piano, a gramophone sounding; a sense of pleasure-making hidden, but now and again emerging when, through the uncurtained window, the window left open, one saw parties sitting over tables, young people slowly circling, conversations between men and women, maids idly looking out (a strange comment theirs, when work was done), stocking drying on top ledges, a parrot, a few plants.
Absorbing, mysterious, of infinite richness, this life.
–Virginia Woolf, Mrs. Dalloway, p. 159
06.20.06
Calvino quote for how I feel today
quoted from Calvino's Hermit in Paris:
Among the Invisible Cities there is one on stilts, and its inhabitants watch their own absence from on high. Maybe to understand who I am I have to observe a point where I could be but am not. Like an early photographer who poses in front of the camera and then runs to press the switch, photographing the spot where he could have been but isn't. Perhaps that is the way the dead observe the living, a mixture of interest and incomprehension.
As posted here on this fantastic blog.
06.02.06
optimum slim
out of polluted frequencies
of idol chatter out
of plastic communities
of childhood out of
offshoots violating
architecture out
of a preponderance
of choices today
adrift on the aisle
in a moment of
paralysis,
abulia
ebullient advertising
sparks these
consumption memories:
at powerhouse a
gooey cookie round
on wax paper, reward
of received vaccine
this abetted reverie
pitched to wind
bendable, plausible
resilient again in
this aisle, isolated
by costs of
opportunity by
losses gained,
thrown choices
