Middle Season #27 - 2024

 

Gingko fruit on group, a touch of red at Fullersburg Woods, sycamore leaves begin to accumulate, acorn shells

Four Quadrants Writing Exercise

The following writing exercise seems aligned with Sarah Susanka's meditation idea of "where are you now".... it asks you to list things from yesterday, rather than now.  My immediate change to this is to skip the doodle and add "felt."  The goal is to help build your noticing skills.

From a writing workshop with memoirist and author of Still Writing: The Perils and Pleasures of a Creative Life, Dani Shapiro, a quadrant writing exercise. In this exercise you:

1. Divide your paper up in four quadrants and label each quadrant: Did, Saw, Heard, Doodle.

2. Think about yesterday and write 7 things that you did, write 7 things you saw, write 7 things you heard, and draw 1 doodle.

Feed Me

Some existential (and poetic) thought from a character in Stephen King Under the Dome.  Carter is feeling the imperatives of so much of the world.  People ask of us.  Our way of life demands of us.  (It feels almost like the other side of the coin as Henry Hikes to Fitchburg)

    "Go on, son," Big Jim said. "Quick as you can."

    Why does it have to be me? Carter thought ... but did not say. It had to be him because the boss was old, the boss was fat, the boss had a bad beart. And because he was the boss, of course. James Rennie, the Emperor of Chester's Mill.

Emperor of used cars, that's all you are, Carter thought. And you stink of sweat and sardine oil.

   "Go on." Sounding irritable. And scared. "What are you waiting for?"

   Carter stood up, the flashlight-beam bouncing off the fallout shelter's packed shelves (so many cans of sardines!), and made his way into the bunkroom. One emergency light was still on in here, but it was guttering, almost out. The buzzer was louder now, a steady AAAAAAAAAAAA sound. The sound of oncoming doom.

    We're never getting out of here, Carter thought.

    He shone the flashlight beam on the trapdoor in front of the generator, which continued to utter the toneless irritating buzz that for some reason made him think of the boss when the boss was speechifying. Maybe because both noises came down to the same stupid imperative: Feed me, feed me, feed me. Give me propane, give me sardines, give me premium unleaded for my Hummer. Feed me. I'll still die, and then you'll die, but who cares? Who gives a ripe red fuck? Feed me, feed me, feed me.

    Inside the storage bin there were now only six tanks of propane....

More and less human

 

from the blurb:

Edited and introduced by the twenty-fourth Poet Laureate of the United States, Ada Limón, this book challenges what we think we know about “nature poetry,” illuminating the myriad ways our landscapes—both literal and literary—are changing.

You Are Here features fifty previously unpublished poems from some of the nation’s most accomplished poets, including Joy Harjo, Diane Seuss, Rigoberto González, Jericho Brown, Aimee Nezhukumatathil, Paul Tran, and more. Each poem engages with its author’s local landscape—be it the breathtaking variety of flora in a national park, or a lone tree flowering persistently by a bus stop—offering an intimate model of how we relate to the world around us and a beautifully diverse range of voices from across the United States.

Joyful and provocative, wondrous and urgent, this singular collection of poems offers a lyrical reimagining of what “nature” and “poetry” are today, inviting readers to experience both anew. 

The You Are Here Prompt: What would you write in response to the landscape around you?

From Limon's introduction:

From where I sit now, I can see the magnolia, the three cypress trees, the hackberry, and the old mulberry tree that drapes its tired branches over everything like it wants to give up but won't.  Watching them makes me feel at once more human and less human. I become aware that I am in a body, yes, but it is a body connected to these trees, and we are breathing together.

What do poems do?

 I asked ChatGPT:

Certainly! When we think of what poems *do* with their subjects, we can look at the various ways poets engage, explore, or transform their topics. Here's a list of verbs that describe what poems can do with their subjects:

### **Verbs for What Poems Can Do:**

1. **Praise** – to celebrate or admire the subject.

2. **Honor** – to recognize the value or dignity of the subject.

3. **Question** – to probe or challenge the subject, raising doubts or exploring uncertainties.

4. **Mourn** – to express sorrow or grief over the subject.

5. **Reveal** – to uncover hidden aspects or truths about the subject.

6. **Meditate** – to contemplate or reflect deeply on the subject.

7. **Critique** – to analyze or find fault with the subject.

8. **Celebrate** – to joyfully acknowledge the subject's worth or beauty.

9. **Lament** – to express regret or sorrow for the subject.

10. **Invoke** – to call upon the subject or summon its presence (often seen in odes or invocations).

11. **Explore** – to investigate or wander through the complexities of the subject.

12. **Reflect** – to mirror or consider the subject in a thoughtful way.

13. **Confront** – to face the subject directly, often in a bold or challenging manner.

14. **Embody** – to give form or expression to an abstract idea or feeling through the subject.

15. **Personify** – to attribute human qualities to the subject, particularly if it’s inanimate or abstract.

16. **Transform** – to alter the subject, changing its meaning or appearance through metaphor or imagination.

17. **Imagine** – to re-create or envision the subject in a new or altered form.

18. **Exalt** – to elevate or glorify the subject beyond its ordinary state.

19. **Expose** – to lay bare or reveal something about the subject, often uncomfortable or hidden truths.

20. **Illuminate** – to shed light on the subject, making it clearer or more understandable.

21. **Examine** – to look at the subject closely and analytically.

22. **Deconstruct** – to break down the subject into its parts or challenge its accepted meaning.

23. **Commemorate** – to mark or remember the subject, often with a sense of reverence.

24. **Celebrate** – to recognize with admiration, often in an exuberant or joyful way.

25. **Challenge** – to test or oppose the subject, raising doubts or new perspectives.

26. **Romanticize** – to idealize the subject, often giving it an exaggerated sense of beauty or perfection.

27. **Condemn** – to express strong disapproval of the subject.

28. **Observe** – to watch or take note of the subject in detail.

29. **Envision** – to imagine or picture the subject in a future or hypothetical state.

30. **Eulogize** – to speak or write in praise of the subject, often in memory of someone who has died.

31. **Contrast** – to compare the subject with something else, highlighting differences.

32. **Yearn** – to express longing or desire for the subject.

33. **Bewilder** – to confound or confuse the subject, making it seem mysterious or puzzling.

34. **Resist** – to oppose or push back against the subject.

35. **Confess** – to admit something personal or hidden about the subject.

36. **Celebrate** – to acknowledge the joy or beauty in the subject (repeated for its versatility).

37. **Invoke** – to summon or appeal to the subject, often as part of tradition or ritual.

38. **Depict** – to describe or portray the subject vividly and accurately.

39. **Romanticize** – to idealize or embellish the subject (not just in a positive sense, but often adding dramatic allure).

40. **Interrogate** – to aggressively question the subject, seeking answers or accountability.

These verbs capture a range of possibilities for how poems can interact with, reshape, or address their subjects. Each verb suggests a different stance or relationship between the poet, the reader, and the subject of the poem.

Here are more verbs that describe what poems can do with their subjects:

1. **Embrace** – to warmly accept or encompass the subject.

2. **Intertwine** – to weave together different ideas or images with the subject.

3. **Criticize** – to express disapproval or analyze flaws in the subject.

4. **Romanticize** – to idealize or make the subject seem more beautiful or appealing than it is.

5. **Anticipate** – to foresee or look forward to something about the subject.

6. **Observe** – to carefully notice or watch the subject.

7. **Contemplate** – to think deeply about the subject.

8. **Depict** – to describe or represent the subject vividly.

9. **Immortalize** – to make the subject timeless, preserving it forever.

10. **Grieve** – to express deep sorrow or loss for the subject.

11. **Nourish** – to provide emotional or intellectual sustenance related to the subject.

12. **Acknowledge** – to recognize or admit the presence or reality of the subject.

13. **Echo** – to repeat or reflect the subject in a new context.

14. **Imply** – to suggest something about the subject without directly stating it.

15. **Elevate** – to raise the subject to a higher level of importance or admiration.

16. **Compare** – to identify similarities and differences with the subject.

17. **Examine** – to look at the subject carefully and in detail.

18. **Interrogate** – to question the subject forcefully, looking for deeper truths.

19. **Negotiate** – to work through or reconcile conflicting ideas about the subject.

20. **Perceive** – to interpret or sense something about the subject in a particular way.

21. **Relate** – to connect or show the relationship between the poet and the subject.

22. **Reveal** – to uncover hidden truths or aspects of the subject.

23. **Subvert** – to undermine or overturn expectations related to the subject.

24. **Testify** – to bear witness or provide evidence of the subject’s significance.

25. **Yearn** – to express deep longing or desire for the subject.

26. **Expose** – to reveal hidden or uncomfortable truths about the subject.

27. **Admonish** – to warn or reprimand the subject.

28. **Proclaim** – to announce or declare something forcefully about the subject.

29. **Transform** – to change or alter the subject in a significant way.

30. **Wrestle** – to struggle with or attempt to resolve conflict with the subject.

These verbs broaden the possibilities of what poems can *do*—whether through emotional, intellectual, or imaginative engagement with their subjects.

Some examples: Here’s a list of 3-5 poems with their titles and a description of what they do with their subjects:

### 1. **“Ode to a Nightingale” by John Keats**

   - **What it does:** *Praises* and *meditates on* the beauty and transcendence of the nightingale’s song, while also *contrasting* the fleeting nature of human life with the seemingly eternal song of the bird.

### 2. **“The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock” by T.S. Eliot**

   - **What it does:** *Questions* and *laments* the inner life and hesitations of the speaker, *exposes* his self-doubt and insecurity, and *critiques* the alienation and paralysis of modern life.

### 3. **“Do Not Go Gentle into That Good Night” by Dylan Thomas**

   - **What it does:** *Commands* and *challenges* the subject (his dying father) to resist death, while also *mourning* the inevitability of mortality.

### 4. **“The Negro Speaks of Rivers” by Langston Hughes**

   - **What it does:** *Honors* and *celebrates* the deep history and resilience of Black culture, *illuminates* the connections between the individual and collective past, and *reflects* on the power of heritage.

### 5. **“Because I Could Not Stop for Death” by Emily Dickinson**

   - **What it does:** *Personifies* death as a kind and patient guide, *meditates on* mortality and the afterlife, and *explores* the inevitability of death with calm reflection.

These examples show how poets engage with their subjects in diverse ways—whether by praising, questioning, confronting, or mourning—and how their approach shapes the reader’s experience of the poem.

510 Topics

Rick Beato is a YouTube and Instagram music personality.  He interviews lots of old musicians and edits them for IG.  He also has this guitar instruction book, called the Beato Book Interactive.  It has, as expected, an audio player for examples, video lessons, PDFs.  What caught my attention about it is its length:  510 topics!

Here's a part of the table of contents: 

• 47 - Basic Progressions (2)
• 48 - Pre-dominant - Dominant - Tonic Lesson
• 49 - Cadences
• 50 - Authentic & Plagal Cadences
• 51 - More About Roman Numeral Analysis
• 52 - More About Roman Numeral Analysis (2)
• 53 - Neapolitan 6th Chord Progression
• 54 - Sus4 Resolutions
• 55 - Cycle of Fifths and Backcycling
• 56 - Roman Numeral Analysis and Chord Scale Choice
• 57 - Basic Rules for Chord Substitutions
• 58 - Basic Rules (2)

The vast number of topics is astouunding.  It makes me think of a "teaching book," created after nearly 30 years of teaching (or already 30 years?).   

Do I have 500 topics?  It would be interesting to find out!  

Also thinking of the process of building a guitar book of my own... a binder... a page per "idea".

Author of twelve collections of poetry

Van Gogh Olive Grove, 1889

One of the things that I noticed about the poetry collection You are Here, found in the author introductions, is the vast amount of poetry written.  So many living poets that I've never heard, except for a handful, and each one has filled the world not just with poems, but BOOKS of poems.  That's inspiring.

Alberto Rios....He is the author of twelve collections of poetry...

She has also written four poetry collections, including...

Rigoberto G is the author of eighteen books of poetry and prose...

Jason S's fifth collection of poems....

Erika M is the author of six books of poems, including

...four collections of poetry

... author of five poetry collections, most recently

It makes me think of the haiku project I've started and stopped.  It makes me think of the suggestion to write a haiku a day to change your world (After a While It Opens you Up) (link).  And that creativity is a volume business (link).  It makes me think of Van Gogh's incredible output of paintings in the last years of his life.  

It makes me think about taking the time to write drafts and finish poems and collect them.  Both the writing and the collecting.  The benefits of becoming more attuned to the world in writing, and the brainwork involved in trying new structures, and the thinking involved in creating a variety of poems about a single topic, rather than just a lot of poems.  Collections: One a year? Two a year?  

Yesterday I had some time in the morning and began writing "seeds" for poems that involve time and acceleration.   

Autumn Equinox 2024

 today.

Manifesto of fragility/Terraform by Erika Meitner

Manifesto of Fragility / Terraform

Erika Meitner

In the Grand Tetons on the shores of Jenny Lake
a ranger is giving a talk: You can gently feel and
bond with the lichen; she is stroking the side

of a tree trunk. The little things in our ecosystem,
she says. And these days our ecosystem is basically
a Yiddish resistance song: “Mir Veln Zey Iberlebn”—

we will outlive them, since there are critically
endangered orcas harassing ships, biting at rudders,
and even sinking yachts off the Iberian coast.

Scientists shun the word ‘attack’ for these encounters,
claim it’s not aggression but most likely the killer whales
playing, finding pleasure, like the female sea otter

in Santa Cruz accosting surfers, committing longboard
larceny. The otter was shredding, caught a couple of
nice waves, said a sixteen-year-old dude whose board

was commandeered by the otter at Cowell’s Beach.
Multiple attempts have been made to capture her,
none successful. And in the Netherlands, magpies

and crows are turning hostile architecture into homes,
constructing cyberpunk nests from anti-bird spikes—
strips of sharp metal pins meant to keep them from

perching on buildings. I’m definitely rooting for the birds
—they’re fighting back a bit, said the Dutch biologist
studying the phenomenon. Never mind the record

wildfire season in Canada that made the weather
forecast on my phone—no matter what state I was in—
just “smoke,” the unprecedented heat domes across

the US all summer, the ocean in Miami at 100 degrees
sparking coral reef bleaching and a massive die-off.
Before we went out West, every night I walked a path

around Tiedeman’s Pond getting dive-bombed by redwinged
blackbirds, which is so common during nesting
season the local paper offers advice: make eye contact,

run for cover, wear a hat or a bike helmet when you
go out on foot. The ranger is still talking about lichen:
they colonize harsh environments, infiltrate and

wedge apart pieces of rock, serve as food in times
of stress for mammals, including humans; birds use
lichen for nest-building. Lichen are possibly the oldest

living things on earth. We will outlive them. Mir veln
zey iberlebn—the Jews who made up that resistance
song on the spot were Polish, murdered by the SS

in Lublin in 1939, ordered to sing to their own execution.
They all died against barbed wire but their song lived on.
And in the prairie restoration area, despite the drought,

despite the shrinking footprint of the pond, the ground
is still bursting with a riot of purple and yellow and white:
cup plants, plume thistles, beebalms and bergamots.

Resistance is struggle against impossible circumstance,
refusal, the will to survive in the face of annihilation;
it can also be the surviving remnant enacting revenge.

The dictionary offers sample sentences: they have shown
a stubborn resistance to change; government forces were
unable to crush the resistance; the troops met heavy

resistance as they approached the city; he went underground
and joined the resistance. In the story about
the Jews of Lublin, no one sang until one person began.

Middle Season #26 2024

 

The visitors came in out of the dark evening

 LBJ 

The word had gone out through official Washington that the big vote would be that evening, and the galleries in the Chamber had begun to fill up early in the evening, not with visitors to the city but with its own people, men and women connected with, or fascinated by, government, who wanted to see one of government's big shows. Evening became night, a hot, muggy Washington summer night, and more spectators came in from dinner parties, some of which had been formal parties at foreign embassies, and in the galleries were jewels and bare shoulders and white shirtfronts and dark suits. The Capitol dome was lit. It gleamed over Washington, high above the men and women walking toward the long, shadowy eastern façade, or driving down Pennsylvania Avenue. The visitors came in out of the dark evening, up the broad marble stairs and between the tall columns, through the bronze doors into corridors sparkling with the crystal and cut glass of chandeliers, and they walked along those corridors past the busts of statesmen and the paintings of heroes, under the richly hued frescoes, into the galleries rimming the long, high-ceilinged room with its pale walls and its four glowing mahogany ares, until finally even the aisles in the galleries were filled to overflowing, spectators sitting on each step. "There are times—they are very rare-when a scene worth remembering. a moment of real drama and meaning, occurs on the Senate floor," Stewart Alsop was to write. "[This] was such a moment.... It was a scene of a sort that occurs only once or twice in a decade— every fit Senator on the floor, and the galleries choked with spectators. All present, spectators and senators alike, were caught up in the excitement of the great Senate game. A man's pulse can be quickened, after all, by a close contest at chess, or on the golf course. But there is nothing quite like the Senate game...."

Patterns will wake you up

Van Gogh  - Trees in the garden of the Hospital Saint-Paul, 1888

Eileen Myles: 

I hope there’s mystery and poetry in your life—not even poems, but patterns. I hope you can see them. Often these patterns will wake you up, and you will know that you are alive, again and again.”

Amount of psychic energy

 I find this note in my journal, but don't recall what it's for.

Libido, according to Carl Jung, is the amount of psychic energy.  It's quantitative, not qualitative.

There is responsibility in being a person

 There is responsibility in being a person. It's more than just taking up space where air would be.

- John Steinbeck East of Eden

An engine for being more present

Illustration by D. B. Johnson from ‘Henry Hikes to Fitchburg,’ 

from journal 9/30/2014.  I'm 44 at the time.  I am in the throes of the end of the early part of adulthood, or early mid-life re-evaluate.  I want to ACCOMPLISH things.  But then I move to more interior things -- repair, be happy with less.  Then, it gets big again!  Then small again -- changing my own "lenses."

Thinking: I'd like to write a book! But not a novel... that's huge effort for a piece of entertainment. Then a book like The Wild Places.. but that's more skill than I have (of journalism, of history) and, again, once it's written, what are the rewards? How about a song every 9 days until the end of the year? What about poems? What about a new job? Move to a new state?

What about just working to get rid of plantar fasciitis?

What about living more Thoreau-like?

What about writing another education article? Doing more presentations? But I'm not ready to go "all in" as an education guru.

What about changing my "glasses" and look more optimistically and being more present?

My reflection on that day ends with:

I feel that 'noticing" things, 10x per day? could be the engine of something.  (Take a picture/day) If I started today, I'd have 1000 by the end of the year.  Putting words to things.  being present.

I am grateful for Minott

Wheat Field with Reaper and Sun, 1889 - Van Gogh

From Sept 28, 2014:

Reading Thoreau's journals for close to an hour this morning. Impressed by the image of Minott the farmer, taking pleasure in all his work, having a farm that's "just the right size," so there's no waste. He knows every nail and pin on his barn. This reminds me of my dad -- and of a real goal for life.  Also impressed with the idea of nature as the antidote to society.  Also, the idea of footpaths as superior to wheel tracks.

Here's the section from Thoreau's journal:

"Minott is, perhaps, the most poetical farmer - who most realizes to me the poetry of the farmer’s life - that it I know. He does nothing with haste and drudgery, but as if he loved it. He makes the most of his labor, and takes infinite satisfaction in every part of it. He is not looking forward to the sale of his crops or any pecuniary profit, but he is paid by the constant satisfaction which his labor yields him. He has not too much land to trouble him, - too much work to do, - no hired man nor boy, - but simply to amuse himself and live. He cares not so much to raise a large crop as to do his work well. He knows every pin and nail in his barn. If another linter is to be floored, he lets no hired man rob him of that amusement, but he goes slowly to the woods and, at his leisure, selects a pitch pine tree, cuts it, and hauls it or gets it hauled to the mill; and so he knows the history of his barn floor."

-From Thoreau's Journal; October 4, 1851

Here's a gloss from Facebook:  George Prescott Minott (1783-1861) was a lifelong Concord resident and one of Thoreau's favorite people, one of the simple, obscure "worthies" of Concord that he admired so much. 

In another Journal entry Thoreau would write, "I am not only grateful because Veias, and Homer, and Christ, and Shakespeare have lived, but I am grateful for Minott..." 

Restoration "Hardware"

 Van Gogh. The Oise at Auvers, 1890

I'm rereading September 2014 Journals and adding them to DRL history.  On Sept 22, a Monday, I write 

"Weekends... restoration.  had the thought this wekend that weekends should feel like obvious steps to restoring and re-creating.  My default setting is that it's just a time for a different set of chores."

 There's nothing different 10 years later.  My -- whether at night after school or on weekends -- default is to put on a different set of clothes when I get home and starting cranking out to-dos.  Now, it's cardio, weights,   guitar, reading, HW, make and clean up from dinner.  

I would be pretty stumped if you asked me what I do for "restoration."  Even "restorative" things I do with the mentality of a chores -- meaning I have to write it on a schedule, get to it, or else I'll just do nothing.  

One problem is that I feel like there are infinite piles of weekly/monthly chores to tackle and infinite piles of projects.  

What is my "restoration practice"?  (I think I recall some meditation or yoga instructor saying "i'm wishing you a restorative practice".). 

I'd like it to be a simple thing:  a chiropractor re-aligning.  balancing the wheels on a car, popping a pill to slow down the racing heart, re-adjusting the steering on a bike, oiling a squeaky door....  there should be a box of tools -- "hardware" -- that helps in restoration.

What would less look like?

 

Odilon Redon Vase of Flowers

From some cheesy book: The Daily Stoic (or something) by Ryan Holiday

September 11th

WHAT WOULD LESS LOOK LIKE?

"Let us get used to dining out without the crowds, to being a slave to fewer slaves, to getting clothes only for their real purpose, and to living in more modest quarters."

-SENECA, ON TRANQUILITY OF MIND, 9.36

Canine superpowers by Michael Kleber-Diggs

 CANINE SUPERPOWERS

Camo Park, Woodland Outdoor Classroom for Zaggy and Jasper

We stroll the grounds and stop at every tree, 

at every chicken bone, each new coneflower.

Their noses lead to everything we see.

I'd be asleep if it were up to me.

Still slick with dew, this city park seems ours as we stroll the grounds and stop at every tree.

Perils persist - real possibilities.

I scan the grass for things they can't devour; 

their noses notice things that might harm me.

Sometimes we'll spot a fox, surprise a bee, 

find trash, broken glass, have a sad encounter 

on our daily rounds to check on every tree.

Three times we've come upon wild coyotes, 

sensed before seen through canine superpowers.

All of them have smelled what I'm soon to see.

They stare. We stare. There's no anxiety.

Milliseconds transform into hours.

We stroll the grounds and stop at every tree.

Their noses lead to everything I see.

Scrapbook for September and October 2024

 

Older Scrapbooks of 2024 -  July/August --- May/June -  March/April -- Jan/Feb --

1. Covers of Stevie Wonder Songs - link
2. Rhodia Side Spiralbound A4 4-Color Book (8.25 x 11.75) link
3. Bookfinder.com for used books - link
4. What is animal flow yoga and who is it for? - link
5. Recipes - 
1. Eggplant Parm - link 
2. Balela Salad - link
6. Charlotte College Costs - link
7. I create a doc to track "philology" - signs of "Middle season philology" - link
8. 251 words you can spell with a calculator - link
9. Magic Color Picker - text to color - you enter a word/phrase and it creates a html color - link
10. Animated Knots - link
11. Check ins
1. Museums
1. AIC - link
2. Whitney Museum of American Art - link
3. Royal Academy - link
4. Smithsonian
12. Poetry in Sierra Club Mag - link
13. The Sheperd Tone - what is it and how it works - link
14. Henry David Thoreau Journals - link to pdf of old books; link to newly scanned with line numbers, link to scan of 1906 edition, link to Gutenberg -- it feels like a greatest hits version
15. Goldstein - 15 minute meditation on YouTube - link

Middle Seasons #25 - 2024

 

Kept them on their best behavior

From Master of the Senate. by Robert Caro.  Page 957(ish).  This section is about how, against all odds, he creates compromise on both sides to get a civil rights act passed.  

JOHNSON HAD SOME GROUND to fight on now-and he fought.

To keep the two sides negotiating—to keep the 1957 civil rights fight from degenerating into the open hostility and bitterness on the Senate floor in which so many previous civil rights bills had died—he had to persuade them to conduct the debate in an atmosphere of outward friendliness and respect, or at least civility, so for some days after Part III had been disposed of, the opening scene of the Senate each noon hour featured the Majority Leader as Emily Post. In statements written by Reedy and delivered during his opening remarks each day, Johnson encouraged the Senate to mind its manners, saying on one day that the Senate was on trial, that the world was watching it, and that he was confident that the Senate would do itself proud, that his colleagues would "continue the debate as reasonable men." On another day, he said he was happy to see that his confidence was justified. "Never before have I seen in the Senate a debate which has contributed so much to understanding. In that sense, I think the debate has been one of the finest the Senate has ever had." Day after day, he reminded his colleagues that they were taking part in an historic debate, repeated his plea that they be fair and open-minded, open to reason and compromise, and praised them for being so reasonable and open-minded thus far— which of course made it harder for them to act otherwise, and kept them, as much as possible, on their best behavior.

Woodworking projects

Header 1	Header 2
chop saw table
address sign
Birdhouse
text
bud vase holder
Ana White's  raised garden  bed	photo

Plutchik's Wheel of Emotions

 

Interesting interactive website here.  You hover over one of the emotions and it tells you more.  

Books are good company

from: society 6

Author EB White on the power of books:

“Books hold most of the secrets of the world, most of the thoughts that men and women have had. And when you are reading a book, you and the author are alone together—just the two of you. A library is a good place to go when you feel unhappy, for there, in a book, you may find encouragement and comfort. A library is a good place to go when you feel bewildered or undecided, for there, in a book, you may have your question answered. Books are good company, in sad times and happy times, for books are people—people who have managed to stay alive by hiding between the covers of a book.”

Having enough is a form of wealth

Trees in the Asylum Garden (1889)- Van Gogh

(from 3-2-1 newsletter) Brunello Cucinelli, now a billionaire entrepreneur, on his childhood growing up on a rural farm without electricity or running water:

“Life with my parents and the other family members was natural and pleasant. Mutual support happened spontaneously and guaranteed the survival of people as well as of material and spiritual values. Until a few years ago, those bonds were so strong in the rural culture that they safeguarded ideals. The willingness to make sacrifices for others, to be able to wait for a reward, the devotion to work; for me, these are everlasting values. The joy of working together and sharing what was being produced turned work into a joyful liturgy, not a punishment. We all knew what was being done in the fields, in the garden, in the pastures, at home; planting, cultivating, raising children and helping parents. There was no wealth, but we were happy. And it makes me think: having enough is itself a form of wealth.”

Source: The Dream of Solomeo

The real luxuries in life

 

See similar post (The Real Luxuries) from 3/17/24.

The image reads: 

"According to society, the real luxuries are: cars, expensive clothes, a lavish lifestyle"

The real luxuries in life: "slow mornings, freedom to choose, a good night's sleep, peace of mind, calm and boring days, being present, people you love, people who love you back.

These are not things to be acquired, but rather the results of a purposeful and fulfilling existence"

Musical Diary

 

link

Melissa Kirsch at the NYT The Morning Briefing

 I am putting the finishing touches on my Summer 2024 playlist. This isn’t a collection of the summer’s hottest hits, although Chappell Roan and Charli XCX did make it on there. It’s a mix of the songs that I’ve been listening to this summer, regardless of when they came out — more Barack Obama than Billboard.

I’ve been curating this playlist all summer, adding to it whenever I notice there’s a song or an album that I’ve been listening to again and again such that it’s becoming part of my life soundtrack. My Summer 2024 playlist is not meant to be listened to during the Summer of 2024. It’s for the Winter of 2024, or some far-off day in 2035, when I want to evoke this period of time. This period of time when I rediscovered Genesis and became convinced that their 1983 song “That’s All” might be the best song ever written. When I spent an entire month listening to only “Worth It” by Raye and “You’ll Accomp’ny Me” by Bob Seger until I knew every lyric and drumbeat and guitar riff by heart.

When I hear these songs in the future, they’ll trigger memories from this summer. I’ll be back by the lake where a duck walked right out of the water and stood by my beach chair. I’ll be sitting on the screened-in porch drinking iced coffee while the rain blows in. By making a playlist of the season, I’m delineating a chapter of my life. I’m engineering a mechanism to induce nostalgia in the future.

This dividing of life into chapters is something I’ve become more deliberate about doing as I’ve gotten older. I don’t want one season to just bleed into the next, the days losing their distinctness, vivid experiences fading as they recede into memory. Anything that can create order out of the accumulation of life lived seems useful. Sometimes I’ll just go around and take photos of my apartment so that I’ll have a record of how it looked in this moment in time: the plants and the bedsheets and the clothes piled on the chair. They’re not photos I want to look at now, but 20 years from now when I’ve forgotten about these details that are mundane but so essential to my daily life. 

My friend Grace has been making monthly playlists for the 10 years I’ve known her. She calls them her musical diary. “I don’t keep a written journal, but I can look back at the playlists and remember how I was feeling at that time, what was going on in my life: a breakup, a move, a low, a high,” she told me recently. This is what I want: reliable ways to conjure the feelings, the major and minor events.

I feel a lot of remorse around not keeping a journal, a record of my days. I kept one as a kid, but in college, I made the error of reading those cloth-covered notebooks. It was too soon — I was so embarrassed at my young self’s hopes and concerns and insights (or lack thereof) that I took the diaries and threw them in the dumpster behind my dorm. How stupid! How rash! Ever since, any effort to keep a journal has felt doomed, a stop-and-start affair that’s always tinged with anger at my college self’s impulsivity.

I like the idea of using playlists as a journal. It’s easy to do, and easy to stick with. But while I hope the songs on my playlist will evoke forgotten memories and feelings when I listen to them in the future, they’re unlikely to unleash the complicated thought processes, the quickly vanishing flashes of insight, the tiny observations that you uncover only when you actually sit down and write through them. Perhaps this weekend I’ll listen to my summer playlist and try writing out a companion journal entry, a sort of State of the Season that goes deeper into this moment than songs written by someone else ever could.

10 Things from Madison

 

Sticker at Madison Sourdough

J. and I did an impromptu overnight in Madison/Verona.  Here are 10 Things Worth Remembering

1. Found a new bakery with great sourdough: Origin Bread. When we got home, we had it for dinner -- naturally leavened whole wheat.  We looked online and found that it's near MSD and that they have a Wednesday night pizza party with a nearby brewery.  (That pizza would go well before a trip to the observatory, which is also open on select Wednesday nights.)
2. Molasses cookies at MSD. (I would like to try making these)
3. J's quiche at MSD -- with roasted squash in it (we'll be getting lots of squash soon from CSA)
4. Running group, good hearted and friendly - after their run- at Alice Good Coffee.  In fact, lots of positive, good vibe groups there.  One young woman with several Ironman tattoos... incredibly fit.
5. Very big middle eastern food store by Shoreview; also a kitchen appliance/ knife sharpening store
6. Midvale avenue... small, neat homes.  Shoreview: Glencoe feel
7. Picnic point - lots of college joggers, lots of young families, great views toward campus and capital, fire pits that are stocked by the city (or university)
8. Regular Willie Street Co-op buys: Wonderstate coffee, MSD bread, Origin bread, bulk bulger, bulk barley
9. Young homeless people encamped at the university (by the weird humanities building)
10. Elevated shade at Olbrich Botanic Gardens by learning center, elevated shade at student union

Every Mourning by Michael Kleber-Diggs

 EVERY MOURNING

Morning: walking my neighborhood, I come upon a colony
of ants busy at work. I take care not to step on any and miss

them all, then encounter up a ways a fellow traveler greeting
the day. I am frightening her. No. She is afraid of me.

Is she an introvert? Is she a neighbor? Is she just in from the ’burbs,
from the country? Is she scared of the inner city? Am I the inner city?

Is she racist? Shouldn’t I be the wary one? Or is she a survivor
like me? It can’t be what I’m wearing: khakis, a blue and white

checkered button-down shirt, and the nylon sandals I favor
because they’re comfortable, my feet can breathe in them.

Dear friends, I am the nicest man on earth.

And I want to shout, Morning! But just then a weaver or
carpenter, just then a pharaoh or fire or pavement, just

then a little black ant struggles by alone, alone. And
in that moment, I want us to give ourselves over

to industry, carry the weight of the day together, lighten
it. I want to be a part of a colony where I feel easy

walking around. Cool as the goddamn breeze. Where
I can breathe, build structures sturdier and grander

than this—but the woman crosses to the other side
of the street, and I do what I usually do: retreat into

myself as far as I can, then send out whatever’s left.

From Worldly Things by Michael Kleber-Diggs (Minneapolis: Milkweed Editions, 2021