The Old and the Novel
The notion of a path or journey to describes one’s life is a bit overused, so I’ve made a conscious effort to avoid such a metaphor. The problem is that I have yet to find one that works as well.…
An Inevitable Implication
My family and I spent the first day of the new year visiting Dennis’s parents in New Hampshire. I guess it’s nice to get away from home once in a while, but no more than that. I’ve become too much…
Gift Giving
Recent days have been especially conversation heavy. After all, there is a lot going on in the world, and nothing is as it seems. I depend on others—in books, online—to help me see what is beneath the surface, and I…
An Unfinished Film and Missing Pieces
Oh, what a world. These are interesting times, and I spend much of my day watching the movie that is playing on the screen. How will it end? I think I know, but we have not gotten to the climax,…
Like a Broken Record
Another book showed up today. I’ve lost track of how many I’ve purchased in the last months, although I have a list in one of my journals. When a book arrives in the mail, I grab that journal to add…
Which Color?
A black and white world has its allure, as nuance, like freedom, involves responsibility, but black and white gets monotonous—and, besides, there are still more than fifty shades of grey. Saying yes to color takes courage: Adobe RGB offers 16.7…
Purpose
I am searching for the truth. Isn’t it funny that the hundreds of thousands of words I’ve strung together and the millions of words I’ve read come down to nothing more than that?
Is There a Conservation of Time Law?
Why am I here? I guess that’s the question that needs to be taken off the shelf, dusted, and examined a bit before being put back in its place. It might even be a good idea to attend to such…
Words and Fragments
I just finished reading The Moveigoer by Walker Percy, and yesterday I wrote that relationships are strange, fragile beasts. There is great deal of fragility in Percy’s book. He writes about fragile people and tenuous relationships, but they are offset…
Leave No Stone Unturned
Three days ago, I sat down to write and, apparently, got so far as to type in the date. Here I am today, though, already well beyond that point. Is it raining? Is that a mist of water I see…
Needlework
Anyone familiar with my writings might notice a pattern (or two) in the way I think. Themes thread their way through my words, showing up as a few stitches here, wending their way beneath the surface, then popping up again…
