Archive for the ‘Words’ Category
Tuesday, February 6th, 2007
Much is going on—my concept for the new Band Festival poster is at critical mass, I’m convening a cyclists’ meeting tonight to discuss our upcoming presentation before the City Commission, and the Medicine Woman is putting her moccasin firmly in the Graybeard Prospector’s hind end. That being said, I’m thinking about Seranus Victor Seitz, who turns 90 tomorrow.
My Uncle Si was born in the midst of the Great War, but the next time the entire world was back at war, he was more than old enough to sign up. Like Dadbo, he went into the USAAF and became a fly-boy. He named his fighter plane after his kid sister. Most of us learned about this only recently. Even Mombo had forgotten about it, and she was overcome with emotion when the fact resurfaced with an old photo. I think it has something to do with Uncle Si scrupulously avoiding any romantic entanglements before he shipped off. Apparently he didn’t expect to survive the combat that faced him. Neither did a lot of others, including the brass. These boys could “do no wrong,” because, hell, they probably wouldn’t make it back tomorrow anyway, so why give ’em a hard time? For example, when Uncle Si buzzed a control tower because some generals were up there and Uncle Luke was watching. I wouldn’t be surprised if that was one of the more tame episodes.
Uncle Si got to the skies of Europe as the Luftwaffe was fading into history. Air-to-air wasn’t the primary mission at that point in the war, so he provided ground support as a tank buster and dive bomber. But don’t be mistaken—the anti-aircraft defenses of a desperate Wehrmacht must have been pure wickedness. On top of that, Uncle Si said that every day he got into the cockpit, he might be sitting behind a new aircraft engine more powerful than the previous one he’d gotten used to. All he would know before takeoff was the numerical boost in horsepower. He told us once about the fine art of blasting a locomotive. The pilot needs to swoop elliptically at a low angle to avoid being caught above the massive steam explosion. You get the feeling he learned that by watching somebody else get it wrong, or perhaps he narrowly missed boiling himself like a lobster the first time he bombed a train. He tells stories like that without braggadocio, but you can always see the intensity in his eyes. Like most WWII vets, he doesn’t think of himself as a hero. In their minds, that word more properly describes all those pals that never returned. I guess you can’t differ with that kind of logic.
Uncle Si is known for inspiring a famous word in the Dixonary: Sicu. Basically it can be defined as a “lame excuse.” The original sicu was the time he said, “We’ll come down one of these weekends I take off.” It was no secret that Uncle Si might go months without taking a weekend off. It bummed us out to hear that, and so we were forced to bestow the dubious honor. Years later, when I was living in Dayton and my brother James was putting in long hours at AdMart, we laughed at my notion, “You’ll take off one of these weekends I come down.”
Uncle Si is one of those uncles that you love too much to ever tell him, and I know that doesn’t make any sense, but you just can’t tell a tough guy things like that because he’s made you tough, too, just because you’ve loved him. Like Mombo used to say, “Luke probably started the fight, and if Bob couldn’t talk them out of it, Si had to finish it.”
Eventually he helped finish the biggest one—over sixty years ago, up in the sky, above the devastated fatherland of his ancestors—but he came back home and made it to his tenth decade, with a sweetheart he didn’t think he’d ever get the chance to find.
God bless him!
Posted in Birthdays, Business, Community, Dadbo, Family, History, James, Mombo, Studio, Technology, Time, Words | Comments Closed
Wednesday, January 31st, 2007
A bit over halfway into Paul Watkin’s Archangel, the author has his crafted vessel of suspense filled to the brim. I have the strong sense that he’s about to spill it—like a container of ball bearings on a marble floor.
Unlike the other novels that I’ve read, which he weaves on a loom of first-person style, this story circulates through a number of carefully developed characters in an almost cinematic manner. I understand that some of his “fans” haven’t liked this book. It certainly lacks his usual touch of dry humor, and the ending always affects any reader’s opinion, so we’ll see what happens. If they weren’t prepared for the intensity, I can’t imagine they’ve read much Watkins. A full book devoted to his streak of dark adventure is really no surprise to me, especially when the subject is environmental terrorism.
Anyway, I’ve enjoyed “casting” it along the way . . .
Adam Gabriel— John Cusack
Madeleine Cody— Ashley Judd
Marcus Dodge— Aaron Eckhart
Noah Mackenzie— Chris Cooper
Alicia Mackenzie— Joan Allen
Coltrane— Matt Dillon
Ungaro— Ed Harris
Shelby— Matt Lanter
Posted in Fiction, Personalities | Comments Closed
Friday, January 19th, 2007
I think I understand why writers must write. It’s really no different than why sketchers must draw or why dancers must move, but why do we read? Why do we engage in this intensely self-centered activity with books? And what’s even more perplexing to me is why our society seems to exalt this particular kind of internal isolation, because, for the most part, it raises a collective eyebrow at meditators or deep, introspective thinkers. It wouldn’t be considered socially acceptable to spend much time playing golf by yourself, or going to movies by yourself, or drinking by yourself (certainly not), but almost all of us feel differently about reading.
My friend Danny would say we must read to train and develop the mind—to understand influences and work backward to the early sources, the original premises.
My “big sissy” is a librarian, so I asked her, and she said that reading makes us a more interesting person—reading may be solitary, but it’s not inherently selfish.
Watkins, Wolfe, Hammett, Hemingway, Twain . . . Why do I read their fiction? What am I looking for?
Every so often, I find myself listening to the lyrics of Eric, a talented friend. He writes:
You can seek your life to find
Answers that satisfy your mind,
But Jesus spared your life by giving his,
And, Brother— That’s all there is.
Posted in Angst, Creativity, Family, Fiction, Friends, Joan, Music, Personalities, Words | Comments Closed
Thursday, January 11th, 2007
As usual, I’m scratching along in my own analytical way, looking for “keys.” For me, that often involves attempts at integrating various “reality maps” I’ve encountered that make sense as individual systems. Numerology would be one example, but seems limited when I approach it in isolation. Feng Shui has appeal, but I haven’t totally bought into the premise. For a long time, Bruce has made references to Chinese medicine, but my investigation into Chinese thought has been confined to a study of the Book of Changes or I Ching.
Today I read a short magazine article by Mark Blessington. We must think along the same lines, because he’s made an impressive start at applying the principles of Chinese medicine to the relationships between money and people. There’s often a fine distinction between genuine insight and wacky diversion, I must admit, but I would say that Blessington’s ideas about achieving a balance in money elements deserves the benefit of the doubt.
And so we press on with our attempts to synthesize the unbridgeable gaps of knowledge and to learn the unknowable truths, like why you can’t find a missing object until you tell somebody else that you lost it. We’ll continue to look for the profound answers that elude us all, to understand why time always speeds up every Thursday night during NBC’s telecast of “The Office,” and to solve the many riddles of a mysterious universe.
Posted in Family, Nonfiction, Numbers, Personalities, Television, Time | Comments Closed
Tuesday, January 9th, 2007
— If you like Howard Pyle, N.C. Wyeth, and the “Golden Age of American Illustration,” Paul Giambarba has put together a smashing collection of biographical notes, artistic comments, and rarely seen images. I just love this handsome stuff, and tip my hat to anyone who would spend the personal time to compile such an extensive reference site.
— I grabbed a few moments of “mind time” in Harrodsburg while Dana got a haircut, thinking LJS would be a relatively quiet place at that time of day, but the music was a bit more electric-70s than I was expecting. I still haven’t given up on achieving a new level of organization, and it’s that time of year anyway. Business development remains priority one. Nevertheless, I find myself pulled continuously in a different direction with so many art deadlines and volunteer responsibilities demanding my attention. I have another milestone facing me within a week as part of my contractual obligation to the Band Festival as 2007 featured artist. And I must make steady progress on preparations for a one-man show in May at the Community Arts Center. If I don’t find a way to more successfully block out my time, there are some intense experiences that I won’t be able to avoid this year. One good new client would take much of the heat off our situation, and that has to be my focus, one way or another.
— We had a full house at the B.I.K.E. meeting tonight, including our newly sworn-in mayor. It was an important kick-off for the year, a discussion of our first major proposal to the city for infrastructure enhancements and repairs. If I didn’t have so many experienced community leaders at the table, I think I’d probably spin my wheels a lot, but they have a way of making sure I keep getting the traction we need (I don’t know if that pun was intentional or not).
— Dana and I continue to chip away at our three hours of P.J. O’Rourke on tape. He says he dislikes memoirs, and so I can only assume he’s never read the extraordinary Paul Watkins book, Stand Before Your God. He really doesn’t like bloggers either. According to him it’s like “what I did last summer” for adults, and he seems to detest the whole phenomenon. As far as this blog goes, it appears we have an every-other-day pattern of entries developing and that suits me fine. It’s half the level of blogging I was doing a year ago, arguably a more reasonable pace for my current situation. If you desire more than that, dear reader, all I can say it this: you must have way too much time on your hands.
V & S
Posted in Art, Blogging, Business, Community, Dana, Nonfiction, Personalities, Studio | Comments Closed
Sunday, January 7th, 2007
Good Grief. I just read Keillor’s first syndicated column of the year. For somebody who got famous being humorous and touching at the same time, it’s painful to cringe through something with that much self-righteous venom. He’s far too good a writer to inflict that on a reader, but it was my choice to partake. It’s like deciding to sit in front of Meryl Streep and have her look directly at you and weep.
Looking for an antidote, I sat down to watch a few minutes of P.J. O’Rourke on “In Depth,” who was talking about how much writers dislike the act of writing. He said something very close to this: “No writer who I respect says they love the writing part. I suppose the only people who love writing are bloggers. Blogs are free—and worth it.”
Yow. One of those days. I’d better go accomplish something.
There you have it, Ian. You just got your money’s worth.
Posted in Blogging, Ian, Nonfiction, Personalities, Political Affairs, Television | Comments Closed
Saturday, September 23rd, 2006
“A designer knows he has achieved perfection not when there is nothing left to add, but when there is nothing left to take away.”
— Antoine de Saint-Exupery
With a strict focus on our most urgent priorities, I must temporarily devote myself to creating a stronger and more stable business posture.
Click the “Archives” and browse a few of my past entries— January 2005 to September 2006.
From time to time I’ll continue to record my thoughts in a private book, just as I have done since 1971, because I concur with Harlan Hubbard in that I have always kept a journal for “myself changed and at a later time,” and, to use his words again, I would hope that I can someday resume this log as “a kind of memorial to the passing days.”
Until then, please do a few things for me…
• Don’t neglect your creative self.
• Read any Paul Watkins book you can find.
• Ride a bicycle, just for fun.
• Visit Anacrusis, Monday through Friday.
• Treat your body as your best investment.
• Put in a good word for Dixon Design.
“The education of the will is the object of our existence.”
— Ralph Waldo Emerson
“Once a pirate, always a pirate.”
— Frank the Fisherman
Posted in Blogging, Business, Fiction, Nonfiction, Personalities, Pirates, Priorities, Studio, Words | Comments Closed
Tuesday, September 19th, 2006
A few days ago I sat out on the dock and wept without tears. It didn’t last very long. I wasn’t able to remember when or why until just now— I was reading the words of Paul Watkins. I should have known. Today I convinced myself to put on my wet-suit and get back in the water a second time. I needed some exercise and I figured it might be my last chance to do a channel swim. The water was quite cold but tolerable. I covered more than a half mile. Bill had driven into town. I honestly felt like I had that entire part of Michigan to myself, except for the geese, swans, and cormorants. The air temperature getting out of the water was more shocking to the system than the experience of getting in. The wind has continued all day and discouraged any fishing outings. Yesterday we caught several yellow perch, including Bill’s 11-and-a half-incher, probably the largest one any of our gang has ever hooked up here. Later, we reverted to salmon trolling again and that proved just as fruitless as Sunday’s session with casting rods. With a cold front predicted, we had to keep a constant eye on a changing sky. The two of us fished until dark and then came back to a deserted resort. I had to hold the spotlight so Bill could see the pier.
Posted in Exercise, Fiction, Fishing, Friends, Nature | Comments Closed
Saturday, September 16th, 2006
JD and Bob had a long and disappointing early excursion that took the wind out of everyone’s sails, as far as any enthusiasm for fishing, and so college-football-watching took over as the main activity of the day. When Bill, Mike, and Jack decided to go into town after the first round of games, JD and Bob proceeded to go on their “casting for salmon at the dolomite port” mission, which they’d been talking about all summer. I have to hand it to them—they haven’t given up. They’ve been gone for a while and what they’re trying to do is totally unprecedented in the fishing annals of Barefoot’s Resort. I was happy to stay here with my drawing tools and a Paul Watkins novel.
Posted in Art, Fiction, Fishing, Friends, Sport | Comments Closed
Sunday, September 10th, 2006
I can’t tell you how cool it was to sit on the porch at Frank’s farm today and laugh with my mate and brother and sister and niece and nephews, realizing we’re all just a bunch of grownups now. Although we’re two distinct generations, we can all relish a fun conversation at the same level. And I think it will surely get cooler.
Brendan wasn’t there, but I’m thinking about him because he posted a fantastic panorama from Clan Pirate Day 2. The rest of the photos aren’t up yet at his Flickr site (as I type this), but go there anyway, if you haven’t enjoyed it lately. His captions are as good as his images, and his shots are damn good (even though he didn’t get the spelling right for “ghee,” because we intentionally made those kinds of things difficult for his generation—where’s that Dixonary Wiki?).
Posted in Awe, Brendan, Family, Pirates, Words | Comments Closed
Wednesday, September 6th, 2006
Even though the viability of our old story (known at different times as “The Mutants” or “Benedict’s 9”) took a major hit with the success of “X-Men,” I continued to think it held some promise as a distinctive fictional idea. So much for that. Within the next month, two new television premieres will undoubtedly gouge deeper into the heart of our concept and kill it off for good: “The Nine,” which places a group of strangers into a high-stress scenario and then follows how their lives intertwine, and “Heroes,” a series about a professor who learns that ordinary people are developing extraordinary abilities (including an artist, a high schooler and an Asian guy—sound too familiar?). It reportedly has a group of sinister types pursuing them as their paths begin to cross. Good grief. Maybe somebody found our Web pages and stole our story. Hey, maybe we can sue if this takes off! Seriously, we sat on our treatment too long. Let’s hope someone else does it justice. I’m encouraged by the fact that Tim Kring was creatively involved in both “Crossing Jordan” and “Chicago Hope.” “Heroes,” will debut on Monday, September 25 at 9 pm, and a pilot for “The Nine,” is supposed to air on Wednesday, October 4 at 10 pm. Well, at least we can watch Tim Daly in a new show and see if he’s as good as he was in the ill-fated “Eyes.”
Posted in Creativity, Fiction, Personalities, Television | Comments Closed
Friday, September 1st, 2006
— Month of August workout totals: Swim-4; Bike-7; Run-1; Lift-2; Yoga-7
— I saw Sheldon at the gym again this morning, well into Brian’s strenuous workout. I’m convinced that Sheldon really wants to get in shape. If Brian was putting me through that routine, I’d be having a tough time of it, too. Sheldon is one of the best fine artists in this part of the United States, but that distinction doesn’t exempt him from his sedentary profession. Good for you, my friend. Health, wellness, and life extension are something we can all be pro-active about, and that’s the service Brian provides. He’s one of the most fit young men in this part of the United States. On Wednesday night he came flying by me and called out, “Hop on!” I was already pedaling hard, but took the challenge to catch his draft at nearly 30 miles per hour. I could only “suck wheel” for a couple hundred yards before I fell apart. Man… Now that’s cycling.
— The Breidenbach 50th Anniversary collage had been sitting on my art board all week, so I set myself to the task of completing it this afternoon. While she was making constructive comments, Dana accidently smeared some fresh ink. She felt terrible. All I could say was “Just leave the area.” I wasn’t sure what to do at first, but within several minutes I managed to clean and repair the damage—with no indication of anything having gone wrong. I flashed back thirty-two years, when I’d doctor the dates on European rail passes. Yes, I could’ve been a master forger… I might’ve even become a David Halifax!
— Hugh (my friend the mayoral candidate) stopped by while we relaxed on the front porch this evening to enjoy the most refreshing air we’ve had in quite some time. We got to talking about the Town House, and tapped his wealth of knowledge about the history of local real estate. Our home on West Broadway was built in the 20s by W.A. Walker for a railroad man named Arnold, who also had a twin dwelling constructed for his daughter on St. Mildred’s Court, close to campus. She married a Bush Nichols, whose brother, one of Danville’s only Republican mayors, lived in the house across the street from ours. The Arnold daughter died at a young age. The second wife and widow of Bush Nichols still resides in the Twin House today.
— We haven’t indulged much network TV in ages, but last night Dana and I found ourselves glued for 90 minutes. We watched three consecutive episodes of “The Office.” Actually, the term “glued” is not correct usage. This might be the funniest show since “Seinfeld.” If that’s the case, it’ll be impossible to ignore.
V & S
Posted in Art, Community, Dana, Death, Exercise, Family, Fiction, Friends, Home, Political Affairs, Television | Comments Closed
Monday, August 28th, 2006
Bruce spent most of the day resting. He wanted to leave for Indianapolis after tonight’s concert. Quite some time ago, as a 40th birthday present for her son, Dana got tickets for a rare Bruce Cockburn performance at the Kentucky Theatre. Lee and David decided to go, too, and the five of us drove to Lexington for dinner at Natasha’s before the show. We had a great meal and great seats. Bruce was clearly pleased with his gift. Early this morning on her way to work, Joan dropped off hers—an excellent copy of “Walden” that belonged to Joe Wood. At lunch, Bruce and I had a good talk about writing as a subtractive process, and the necessity of brutal self-editing (not unlike the practice of “design refinement” drilled into me as a university student). I’m finally beginning to fully appreciate Bruce’s artistic spirit. My anticipation for his creative output is a familiar craving with which I’ve learned to live. I respond to artists in one of three ways—indifference, inspiration, or demoralization. Although Bruce Cockburn’s sensibilities tend to fall a bit farther to the left than mine, he doesn’t fit the description of a stereotypical liberal musician. Experiencing his creative energy inspires me to my own art, and maybe that’s one more thing my son and I have come to share.
Posted in Art, Creativity, Dana, Family, Food, Friends, Joan, Music, Nonfiction, Personalities | Comments Closed
Saturday, August 26th, 2006
In Lexington this morning, a commuter jet crashed while trying to take off from the wrong runway, killing 49 of the 50 souls on board. I bicycled out to Shared Silence, and left for Kelley Ridge when I got home, to help Joan get her armoire to the upper floor. I didn’t find out about the accident until she told me. Jeffrey had to leave, but I stayed and had lunch with her, Caitlan, Josh, Pat, and Verla. Caitlan and I talked about her internship, and I also found out that Josh will be working full time as a screen printer for the 10th Planet. Joan sent me home with gifts, including Berry’s book on Harlan Hubbard and two of Joe’s old wooden boxes that will enable me to create assemblage under the influence of Joseph Cornell. She also loaned me a James McMullen book which totally throws open my thinking with respect to a concept for the Brass Band Festival poster. I worked outside when I got home, swept the driveway, and finished stacking my salvaged bricks. I got an email informing me that the son of a cycling pal (Martin V of Burgin) had died in a rock-climbing fall. I helped Dana finish her food preparations for Bruce’s visit, just as he arrived. It seemed so amazing to have him here after his first solo Interstate drive in a very long time. It was only a year ago that he was still in the thick of a battle against potentially deadly infections, so this marks another important milestone in his slow recovery. Jeannette and Ben stopped by to see him and have a bite to eat. Terie, Marty, Joan, and Caitlan paid him a visit, too. It’s been a happy evening, in a house not usually so full of life, but I’m acutely aware of the overwhelming sense of tragedy that so many other Central Kentucky families must be feeling tonight.
Posted in Art, Caitlan, Creativity, Current Events, Dana, Death, Family, Friends, Home, Jeffrey, Joan, Josh, Nonfiction, Personalities, Priorities, Terie | Comments Closed
Sunday, August 6th, 2006
Drove to Hot Springs yesterday via 25-E, which, during the daytime, is a much more pleasant route than the Interstate. It gave us an opportunity to locate the LMU campus and learn that it’s quite close to the Cumberland Gap tunnel. Much of the way I read to Dana from “Simple Loving,” a book that used to belong to Joan and Joe. By the time we arrived at Broadwing Farm, we were thinking sufficiently “outside the cube” to make our short breakout worth it, even if nothing comes of our appointment tomorrow. Bob and Carol had a delicious supper prepared and we talked until sleepiness held sway. Typically, we spent today in deep conversation, fueled by natural foods, fresh air, a majestic view, a run to the nearby coffee hangout, and a dip in the spring-fed pond. Carol turned us on to Sarah Susanka, Bob convinced me to start watching the series “Band of Brothers,” and Pete gave me some hemlock slabs from the sawmill for my woodcut experiments. The regional infestation has worsened to the point that he’s been forced to harvest a lot of hemlock from the forest, but the timber is being put to good use in building a horse stable and a third rental dwelling. This one will be called Cedar, and will surely add to the success of Poplar and Pine at Broadwing Natural Bath Cabins.
Posted in Art, Business, Family, Food, Joan, Nature, Nonfiction, Television | Comments Closed
Sunday, July 30th, 2006
Began the day with an early 31-miler with nine of my best cycling chums—out to a remote area of Mercer County between Harrodsburg and Perryville, and then back to Danville in a hard pace line on U.S.150. Mark M mentioned a trip to the Appalachian Trail north of Hot Springs. It got me thinking how we could blend that with some out-of-state prospecting and a long-overdue visit to Broadwing Farm. Then I devoted most of my Sunday to further progress on three mixed media collage pieces that I need to have finished by Tuesday. I knew it might be nice to visit Joan during her final shift at the book seller, but I just don’t have an extra penny to spend. I’d like to start “Huck Finn” soon, but I can just borrow it across the street at the Boyle County Library.
Posted in Art, Exercise, Family, Fiction, Friends, Joan | Comments Closed
Thursday, July 27th, 2006
Le Christ des Barricades
“Hear them?” Henri the carriagesmith asks. “How many, do you think?” Anselme cocks his head, adjusts the filthy bandage, and exposes an ear, crusty with blood. He listens.
“Two dozen riders, maybe three. Wearing cuirasses. With torches, perhaps?”
“Yes. I see the glow now.” He hefts the musket to check its priming in the failing light. “We must withdraw to the square and warn our citizens.”
Anselme lifts his hand from the exquisite frame and places it on his partner’s shoulder. “Go alone, my friend. I have strength only to delay them. You must safeguard the sacred icon—for the barricades!”
( 101 words )
Posted in Brendan, Fiction | Comments Closed
Saturday, July 15th, 2006
Our Indianapolis arrival was behind schedule, but Dana, Marty, and I had a nice Mexican supper with Bruce. Said our goodbyes and headed north this morning, travelling through Ft. Wayne, which was much better driving than I-75. After a big delay in Lansing, getting groceries and trying to find the best route to Grayling, we finally arrived at Barefoot’s Resort before dark and settled into Walt’s old mobile home—not a stylish abode, but comfortable, bright, and more than roomy enough for the three of us. Finished “Payne Hollow” during the drive up. Harlan inspires me to my own individualism, and it’s my hope to find significant time for contacting my creative self over the next few days, with conceptual development for artwork and self-promotion that would be hard to sustain in an environment less conducive than this. That’s my idea of a good break from the typical routine.
Posted in Creativity, Dana, Family, Marty, Nonfiction | Comments Closed
Friday, July 14th, 2006
Not too many things make me angry, but I must say that I hate to misplace things, and looking for a missing item is a fast track to the loss of harmony as well. I truly hate the entire dynamic, and it goes to the heart of my quirks about organization and a personal relationship with “stuff.”
Before long, we’ll complete our final preparations and leave for Michigan. If we can survive the packing.
It must not matter if you’re famous or anonymous, nor whether you have the means to buy almost anything once you arrive at a destination, there’s still something about packing for a trip that generates tension and the potential for conflict. When you add to that the frustration of locating misplaced items, the combination can be rather combustible.
Charlton Heston thought enough about this volatile phenomenon to include some observations in his excellent collection of journal entries called “The Actor’s Life.” He wrote about various pre-departure blow-ups. Later, he records that he and Lydia finally came to a workable resolution—henceforth, he would play no part at all in packing.
He never mentions it again.
On this point alone, Chuck is more man than I shall ever be.
Posted in Angst, Nonfiction, Personalities, Psychology | Comments Closed
Thursday, July 13th, 2006
All I wanted to do was locate a copy of “The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn,” and Joan has to go and bring me under the spell of Harlan Hubbard. I walked right into it, without philosophical defenses nor emotional armor. Like a dang fool!
Well, at least I’m leaving tomorrow for a humble dwelling at Barefoot’s Resort, where I can make an effort to sort out my longing for paintbrush and engraving tool, clean and eat fish caught with my own pole, and put on my wet suit again, returning to the long meditative swims in open water that I’ve daydreamed about for nearly a year… to contemplate what life will now be like with Harlan under my skin and Joe Wood’s gaze in my imagination, keenly observing how I deal with it.
Posted in Art, Fishing, Joan, Nonfiction, Personalities, Priorities | Comments Closed