Saturday, September 24, 2016

among squirrels

One can wander around crazy on campus and feel confident that others would presume that the wandering one is in some high revery
(if they notice at all).

Fortunately, in my case, they’d be correct (though Berkeley has more than its urban share of crazies wandering the streets, you know).
My common standing in woods, lost in high boughs, is rich.

Saturday, September 10, 2016


Old story once again: I’m so having fun learning and writing privately that I don’t want to give time now to brief, accessible updating.

Sept. 5

What is to be done when “you” (one) are (is) writing about a garden,
and that process transforms itself into a so-far uncaptuable landscape which transforms one’s sense of writing, such that endeavoring to
be accessible is infidelity to the transportation (the estate becoming topography troping incipient topology?), thereby being infidelity disguised as fidelity to a promise to be entertaining at a given date
for the casual reader? Writing becomes mere performance—
notwithstanding that all action tropes the performing of oneself.