Saturday, December 27, 2014
My cheeks were often teary through the second half of “The Theory of Everything.” Though the story of Stephen and Jane is heartrending, her True Love and his desire to know—Earthling facing The Cosmos—transcended cruel happenstance of Nature—Nature having no regard for mind, no regard for anything, for there’s no intent to Nature. Only minds love and desire.
-- gary e. davis --- 7:57 PM
Monday, September 15, 2014
“Fun finding” flowers, though too there’s fun “finding flowers.”
Yet, it’s Flow that’s fun; so, Flow-ers are fun to find, Flow in flourishing, such flowering.
My fun, of course, has been an alledgedly high flowering in conceptual gardening, a trope that has seen its day.
Yet, epochal flowering can happen. So, I want to find such hybrids and bring them home.
Meanwhile, I had fun today glossing a sense of literary living.
-- gary e. davis --- 10:39 PM
Tuesday, September 09, 2014
Thinking of Wally, who has ALS, but doesn’t know I know. Earlier today, before I knew, I responded to an unrelated news article by him, after he sent me his e-mail address in reply to my query to his paper. This was before I googled to find more articles by him about Asheville, NC (since I, too, grew up in the Old South); and found him taking care to ensure that others will carry on, November, 2011. So, at least three years after his knowing he had ALS, he’s still writing!—enthusiastically. Maybe it’s common that deterioration is slow, so I shouldn’t be surprised…. Recalling also Stephen Hawking and a fluttering eye.
-- gary e. davis --- 10:45 PM
Thursday, June 05, 2014
A way to gain distance on the recent present is to nest it in narrative frames, the more frames the better for the gaining.
So, finished with Habermasian philosophy, I created a new home page framework for gedavis.com which anticipates unnamed work through a page called “wayfaring,” about which I had no intent of feeling at one point your voice happening in my writing “I love it”— though I said “like one may love an era of their life: integral to moving on.”
That page will move on, too. Only its first version would be so short, so ending that way. Yet, it wasn’t a unique moment. Your voice happens. There seems to be no week in which you’ve gone away.
-- gary e. davis --- 12:18 AM
Thursday, May 22, 2014
My title is the header for my gedavis.com homepage today, a Google+ posting, a Facebook posting, and a line in a Tweet. It's also a key theme of the “humanistic union” project at the gedavis.com site.
I’d be surprised if anyone noticed that the same person “owns” both the Facebook/Habermas Page and the Facebook/Heidegger Page. It’s evident, though: Both Pages list the same Website in the “About” information. Then there’s this posting.
-- gary e. davis --- 12:46 AM
Sunday, May 11, 2014
May 13: revised and expanded
[May 11} A gorgeous day, especially on campus. At the Faculty Club (traditionally “The Men’s Faculty Club,” no more), I got a tickle noticing newly that a tree beside the patio shades nearby tables perfectly: The tree was planted by design, of course. Yet, the planter would likely never enjoy his (her?) result, because the slow growth of trees doesn’t afford shade soon. Perhaps the planter was very young and now, very old, she enjoys seeing the comfort she caused. But likely not. The planting was a gift to the future, a little like building a cathedral (or striving to help Us all undo risks of climate change).
O, the history that the trees could tell.
Soon after I got home from my daily walk, I wrote a little poem for my Facebook Heidegger page [May 13: Little poem now deleted], there linking to a cohering.net page, which of course links [would, if I’d kept the posting] to the entire Website, for whomever cares to venture. [Monday, 5/12: Ha! Then tonight I attached a “Comment” there that’s a little essay introducing more. The whole event—largely unseen, fine—was fun. [May 13: Now gone; Comments disappear with deleted postings. So, I’ll put it all here, after…]
-- gary e. davis --- 5:36 PM
Sunday, April 20, 2014
Balmy breeze of a perfect spring day in woods by a little creek carries distant, lightly chiming melody from carillon counterpointing water babble in slices of sunlight through redwoods and deciduous twigs heralding.
Every day can be at heart delicacy.
Every early afternoon, mostly, I still walk to that place on campus, making notes along the way to there, then back to my keyboard and inner woods of memory, manifolds.
Soon, I’ll post regularly here again, May onward, I expect.
Still mapping. The months have been fun and difficult, yet good. I’m living well, with enough generative presence, happily, and with minimal pretentiousness, though still wanting to capture horizons, as if the Song of Earth is wholly there.
-- gary e. davis --- 3:56 PM