"Light the first light of evening, as in a room / In which we rest and, for small reason, think / The world imagined is the ultimate good." - Wallace Stevens
Saturday, June 04, 2005
on the bike ride
Lilac, burnt rubber, manure. A motorcycle pulling something in its wake: a casket. Neither rider seems to be in mourning.
I was thinking less, definitely less, it's so nice to be reading your thoughts and knowing you're reading mine... but then, just now, I got hit with more, definitely more, really a lot.
I just found out that after China I am going to Squaw Valley, in part to study with Blackberry, Blackberry, Blackberry! How is the Indiana writing conference, and when are you leaving for Massachusetts?
Although this blog does not represent the bulk of the writing I do, I see it as a place for me to track and sometimes theorize the nodes of kinetic, aesthetic, political, cerebral or affective energy that come into contact with my "self" in the various collisions and exchanges that constitute the course of my everyday life. That is to say, this ain't always good writing, but it's not supposed to be. It's process, baby.
2 comments:
I was thinking less, definitely less, it's so nice to be reading your thoughts and knowing you're reading mine... but then, just now, I got hit with more, definitely more, really a lot.
I just found out that after China I am going to Squaw Valley, in part to study with Blackberry, Blackberry, Blackberry! How is the Indiana writing conference, and when are you leaving for Massachusetts?
Congratulations about Squaw Valley. I know someone here going too. I'll have to tell you that story. I'm leaving soon, eek! Let's talk.
Post a Comment