GRIZZLY PEAR
Fifteen years ago, I resisted the smart phone.
Why would I want to be tethered to the internet?
Now, I abstain in public so my enlightened ass can feel “present”.
Snobbery has come full circle.
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literature as an existential fuction, the search for lightness as a reaction to the weight of being.
from “Lightness” in Six Memos for the Next Millenium, by Calvino.
䷰
Another overproofed dough.
Baked anyway.
Sliced thin.
Freeze half.
We’ll toss a third at the duckpond.
The rest to sabotage my diet.
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I couldn’t very well say, “What an awful thing happened,” or “This story is very gruesome,” because I would make a fool of myself. That kind of thing must be left to the readers, not to writers. Otherwise the whole thing goes to pieces.
from “Prose” in Borges on Writing
䷱䷝
Translucent white tape covered the vitamin jar.
Rings of tape banded the table legs.
The seat was covered in florets of tape.
The back had two balls of tape
And a big white smile.
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Once your objective is clear – once you know why – you can begin to prepare your message. Balance everything you plan to say against your objective.
from “Your Objective” in How to Get Your Point Across in 30 Seconds – or Less, by Milo O. Frank
䷄䷯
It’s a short walk between the stairs and the kitchen.
A row of lego creatures lined the path.
Behind them, our cohort of our stuffed animals stood at attention.
I salute the honor guard and slink towards the snacks.
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[The sentence]
from Several short sentences about writing by Verlyn Klinkenborg
It names the world, using the actual names the world already contains.
Perhaps it renames the world.
And this is only the beginning.
䷒䷙
My dad bought a new touchscreen computer.
Today’s zoom call was filled with caricatures on a digital whiteboard.
He drew mice, then a cat.
My daughter caged the cat.
The boy asked for a bear.
My dad drew the head; she added the body.
A racing dog and a silly elephant.
An angry bull and a gorilla.
A fish with a cavernous jaw facing a squiggly worm.
The girl hooked the worm with a fishing line but changed her mind.
She dressed the worm and fish in dark suits with red ties.
She gave them a computer.
My dad added a mouse, with two buttons.
I did the same at her age.
On rice paper.
A black cotton ball with a beak and claws in front of a brood of chicks.
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Rule a big country
from “60” in the Tao Te Ching by Lao Tzu (transl. Ursula K. Le Guin)
the way you cook a small fish.
䷋
A ravenous flock pursued us on the lawn.
We fled.
She was his age, last time we fed the ducks.
Today, the waterfowl waited patiently in the pond.
They’ve learned manners over the pandemic.
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The bottom of the quail’s foot is always itching for the ground ; and he seems never so happy as when leaving the enemy far behind him. His little legs take him through the brush so fast that you cannot keep up with him. Every muscle in him is as tough as a watch-spring.
from “Winged Life” in The Desert by John C. Van Dyke
䷨䷼
Last year, my friend posted a note when Helmut Jahn was killed in a bike accident.
We’ve hit the age when our heroes are leaving us.
I looked at Helmut’s website. He had an impressive portfolio, but the page stopped scrolling.
When starting my career, there was an infinite supply of next-projects. An endless row of residential remodels lined my future.
Thirty houses later, it stopped. I went corporate and never came home.
Jump again and my government pension plan has given me a logical retirement date and a biennual cycle.
Nevada’s legislature meets every odd numbered year when they give us projects. If the economy stays perfect, I will be assigned a big project every four years and five small projects every other year.
At most, I’ve got five more buildings and fifty small remodels.
Wait! That’s it?
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The night after the news, my dream mind visited San Francisco to search for an old friend. I went into a cafe. The barista pointed towards the BBQ joint down the street. As I walked along the shaded tree lined sidewalk, I woke up and remembered that Andrew passed away a decade ago.
Our heroes may not be famous, but grasp them tight while they’re here.
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Who are your heroes? How are you honoring them?
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This Corridor Crew episode is an exit interview with a member starting his own channel. The guys discuss the need for consistent production and loving the craft. It’s not about the product, it’s the doing.
Seth Godin writes about three skills that will keep one employed. He challenges us to learn the art of “initiation“. Go make shit happen.
Here are some lovely photos by David Alrath of Skovshoved Petrol Station, designed by Arne Jacobsen in 1936.
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Justus Pang, RA
Our backyard is a sea of landscape rocks.
A shaded corner harbors a scrawny patch of wild grass.
The boy harvests the grain.
He severs the seeds from their slender stalks with a chipped rock.
It was her idea.
They’ve discovered the stone age.
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Nothing means anything except by having qualities.
from “Pronouns & Roles”, by Fred Hatt
The world is woven by thrummed strings.
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He jumped off a box set of Roald Dahl books onto the ottoman.
He jumped back onto the floor to repeat this routine.
He paused and stared at the hanging light in the center of the room.
He grabbed the box set, placed it on the ottoman, climbed up, stepped on top of the books, and stretched.
He was a few inches short but grabbed my attention.
He didn’t get a second chance.
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For Lucretius, letters were atoms in continual motion, creating the most diverse words and sounds by means of their permutations.
“Lightness”, from Six Memos for the Next Millenium, Italo Calvino
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The boy leaned over a pile of rocks.
He grabbed a faded bottle with both hands.
Fluid grey shapes appeared on the patio.
I knocked on the window.
He looked up.
What are you doing? 你在做什麼?
我在煮饭. I’m cooking.
好.
OK.
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I invented some people telling the story in a comic way in order to make it harder and more pitiless.
Jorge Luis Borges on “The End of the Duel” in Borges on Writing
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