Yesterday morning I found a beautiful feather on the ground—dark gray with a white outline all the way around the rim. Though the feather itself was not cold, my fingers felt cold when I picked it up. I noticed then that there was still blood in the quick, as if the feather had been torn from some bird before it was time. Today, I learned that my cousin John died yesterday morning.
19 September 2014
20 November 2011
1 April 2010
Substitution
The swimmer watched by the lifeguard drowned.
The swimmer stood by the lifeguard drowned.
The swimmer was by the lifeguard drowned.
The swimmer has by the lifeguard drowned.
The swimmer not by the lifeguard drowned.
The swimmer person by the lifeguard drowned.
30 March 2010
Of mice, people, oranges, and of love
While I’m posting old things, here is another from my notebook, also written last year.
I hold an orange, ruby light of the sky refracts through it. My hands, articulate, separate sections off the orange and bring them to my mouth, the mind comprehending all, trying to articulate in turn this experience (never rest!)
A tree has made this orange, crafted it, constructed it to be sweet and delicate, protected in its leathery shell, like a secret whose sweet solution I have learned from my ancestors. But the tree makes this fruit. It is a creator which inherited this task from its ancestors, and each fruit contains seeds, which may continue the tree’s line.
It makes the fruit out of habit — no longer are the fruits harvested in the wild and the seeds spread by careless rodentia. The tree’s family succeeds not by attracting rodents but by contract with humans, who will continue the persistence of this tree’s family as long as it pleases them to eat their fruit.
As the mouse gathers the nut and stores it for food and procreation of the nut’s species — as this is advantageous for mouse and nut, so it is advantageous for us to take to each other. To find and be found, pluck and be plucked, to keep home together, for pleasure and to pass our seed. The human procreative relationship is reciprocal, and warm, creating a mutually beneficial situation that is the bosom of our children. Thus is love arisen, does it emerge from this earth.
Davis in April
It being nearly April again, I thought I’d post something I wrote last April that I just found in my notebook.
In Davis in April in this dry valley almost too big to be called a valley created by an inland sea flooded year after year by the Sacramento River by the American River by the Yuba River by Putah Creek the soil enriched over the centuries by silt these carried from the high mountains of the Sierra from the crumbling mountains of the coastal range from the hilly unknown lands to the north, in this dry valley I sit, and breathe.
I breathe the rich dry eair of Yolo County, full like soil of decaying plant matter of dung of carcasses, all these returned to dust and settled into soil, and sometimes blown in gusts to enrich this air. I sit on a lawn a large and well-kempt lawn of the university which nevertheless is populated by a large variety of weeds, is strewn with oak leaves like the innumerable stars that can be seen from mountain-tops. In a season these leaves will be dust and soil and compost, their ancient life force slowly absorbed by the roots of plants.
I sit under a cork-oak whose leaves are falling (it may be sick) and who provides me with a delicious shade on this warm April day, mixed deliciously with patches of sunshine. The clouds too conspire to bring my life these ingredients, lazy flocks of cumulus humilis slowly floating eastwards from the sea perhaps to bring the high Sierras another dusting of snow. It has been a dry Winter but not utterly devoid of water, and the reservoirs are middling full. Spring has come unhindered, and Davis is full of butterflies now though bees are few this year.
I love this air that smells of compost. I love to walk in the sun and in the shade in Davis in the springtime. I love the university with its many workers and many students, and its many seekers of truth, or money. Out of this good soil has been cultivated a great campus of learning and employ, by the grace of God. Here has sprung up a community of people around the campus, and the old Davis needs all this too to survive — we all must love each other truly here in this earth, while we breathe the rich air, while we walk in the sun-soaked pathways of the university at Davis.
11 January 2010
last of the holiday gatherings 2010
Another holiday season has officially drawn to a close. Already one week into Winter quarter, we’ve just had our last of the big family gatherings for the year. It was excellent, as usual. We are now the proud owners of a hot chocolate pot, and some grappa! A match made in heaven (though the combination is as yet untested). This together with the Italian cookies recipe book will make for excellent post-holiday calorie continuity. And Laurie looks mighty pretty in her new necklace. Anyway, thanks gang, and we’re looking forward to next year!
With that, here are some pictures from a very pleasant belated Christmas gathering in Danville:
2 January 2010
tickets and close calls
Don’t worry everyone. I have made an infographic depicting all the counties in the United States in which either Laurie or I have been issued a traffic ticket or pulled over. Red for moving violation, blue for parking ticket, yellow for being pulled over with no ticket issued. I feel certain that you have all been curious about this. This is to be the first in a series of infographics that Laurie and I will make, and if we make as many as we plan to, we’ll give infographics their own division of our webspace here, for your continued enjoyment. Thank you, and God bless.
4 September 2009
stars etc.
Tonight the moon was full, and it was too bright to view through a telescope. We got the moon right in the middle of the view, but it was so bright it made our eyes ache. You could see it projected brightly onto the other person’s eye when they were looking. Not a good night to look at the moon.
So we pointed the telescope at other objects in the night sky. We looked at Jupiter again and its four visible moons. They change configuration every night. We looked at Arcturus setting in the west, and some other stars in the southwest. I haven’t learned too many star names yet.
One name that I have learned is Vega. I spent a good long time looking at Vega. It was almost directly overhead, so the telescope was oriented such that I could sit comfortably on the ground. I had pointed my telescope at a few different stars whose names I did not know, but when I got to Vega my attention was fixed. Its light is particularly beautiful. It is a clear, crystalline, watery light. Lots of bright blue and purple. I’m sure I’ll get to know lots of stars as I spend more time with this telescope but it’s going to be difficult to find one more beautiful than Vega.
7 June 2009
I know I will never understand language
I know I will never understand music
I know I will never understand birdsong
I can’t help thinking
It’s still worth listening
15 March 2009
every thousand years
Momentous day — the wedding of one Mr. Shapiro brought out the dancing, singing, and general merriment of all present. Failed game of rock paper scissors bunny carrots to be taken up later. Jokes told. Grassy hill sled upon. All around an historic and joyous occasion.
Once home the day returned largely to normal. A bit of gardening done and more work done on the pile of writing to be completed by end of week. The end is not yet in sight, though the first paper is shaping up quite nicely.
At wedding sat next to some people that looked vaguely familiar — lo, we had a high school class together. They remembered the epiphany box! That was a job well done. Of all the things I have created thus far in the PhD program, will any have the memorious longevity of the epiphany box?
Clearly was meant to be situationist artist.
Bed time.