a trace of spirited time

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While gathering notes for the democracy project, something from five years ago turned up: a link to a long ago page—forgotten?—that now tropes what it’s about: The page, titled “a trace of spirited time,” is itself a trace within years—so many, relative to how long I’ve been writing online, so many since I’ve been writing a life, as if living itself is a kind of storiation through sundry ventures.

Life. World. Recalling earlier written things in new posting is cheating my engagement in sharing new “stuff.” There’s so much already online: lots that’s not listed as the many hundreds of pages called “sundry gardening,” which is mere preface to a Project barely shared, yet growing for over two decades.

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“the soul of America”

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This is part of a project on “democracy” in America.

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humanity of Our potentiating futurity

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This feels like a milestone in making accessible sense of the entire Project.

Cherishing high individuation isn’t elitist, if you also authentically do your best to be flexibly mindful and gracious—you think?

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summer time

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So went a season:

• happy solitude
• being one Self
• “genius”
• being an American (with conceptual issues)
• summer constellation
• american humanity

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american humanity

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When Joe Biden avowed in mid-August that “the soul of America is on the ballot,” he was as vitally accurate as the so-called “Idea of America” is readily forgotten by predatory politics.

Twelve years beyond Obama’s 2004 declaration that “there is no Red America, there is no Blue America; there is the united states of America,” he hallmarked the humanity of the American Idea at the U.N. and at Hiroshima. Then, last month he avowed the sacredness of our citizenship.

soul of Self interest

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From a sense of singularity to more wondering about the starry cosmos.

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souls in Time

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He took that she would always want philological wonder.

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saturdaynote

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Several new projects are going to intersect in coming weeks: “summer constellation” is begun by “a caring profession” (already noted below), but the latter leads into the new “days go by” section of the g.com Area “being in Time,” whose first posting is “late August, 2020.”

I don’t know that my Aug. 23 posting, “I caused his death? Sorry, dude…” fits into anything but a longstanding, marginal interest in discursive polemic.

“Being ‘conventional’” happened as prelude to beginning a third new project, “prospecting democratic futures, 2020” with today’s “for a world beyond throwaway words.”

Also, there is “an Earthanity” today at literairy living

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saturdaynote

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I finished my cherished project, “Spring Points,” which implicitly alludes to the sections being bases (backgrounding) for later work. Yet, I also have “secret” interest in constellating which is phenomenally troped by pointillistic thinking in art.

“Night neighbors the stars.”

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prelude

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Wording words in days going by…
Is want of novelty the point of narrative play?
Some solitude of high flourishing, love of, in creative living
reads another for literary venturing of comprehensive
inspiration, authoriality reserved
in authorship, more Earthly dancing

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being well during a pandemic

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Early April’s holism about “weathering the war on virality” got merged into an extension of all that, which is now a focused excursion relative to excellent journalism regarded as a digital commons, mostly employing articles from the NYTimes.

That becomes a somewhat rigorous appreciation of how a small set of relevant articles become an annotated conversation about American humanity (between the article authors and myself).

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“genius”

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Beyond folk notions of genius, from inspiration, through spiritualist history, to the ironic creativity of Literary presentation, genuis is fascinating.

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for wholly flourishing

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The streets around campus are quiet because few cars pass by. But some students are still living in their fraternity houses—and need to escape their sheltering by a party outside. Since they like to blast music into the street, eerie results can sometimes happen: no blast, rather a heartfelt song soundtracking the day, as if the sky is a dome embracing our belonging together.

Saturday was “One World: Together at Home.” Sunday, I imagined Taylor Swift’s solo performance of “Soon You’ll Get Better” filling
the outside air.

Beyond healing that you’ll inevitably live, there’ll then be your chances again to get better and better at living your loves.

a dusky note

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Eras end because one’s beginning another.

But I’m worn down by too much news I won’t turn away.

I can be a keynote—maybe a few days from now.

seafaring imagination

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“foresting life” is an improvisation about genomics portending post-natural humanity.

It derives from an email letter to the author of a NY Review of Books article on Darwin, written in light of the author’s interest in genomics,
as represented by his book description of his Tangled Tree (which I’ve ordered) about a paradigm shift in evolutionary genetic modeling.

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how we’re weathering the war on virality

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So, now I’ve earned license to fly away into my own heights again.

I forgot to note in mid-March that a new introductory discussion for The Project was uploaded: “‘being well’ in relation to ‘well-being’.” And the g.com “sense of site” was clarified.

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being a life of artistry

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What a pleasure to be a NYTimes “Pick” at comments on an article
I loved reading. Of the editors’ few picks, out of over 400 comments,
I’m the last word!

Now, not to burden you with intricacies, please bear with me to a figurative (non-intricate) end.

fairly aiming

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Gorgeous days have come to Berkeley, just as the Covid-19 scare causes Cal’s botanically-lush campus to become as quiet as spring break.

I completed the “set of aims” that I mentioned March 6, but went to bed last night a little despaired about how I could do anything with it briefly for an update here.

This morning, I became enchanted by an astronomy article in the NYTimes, which caused me to spend the morning writing exotically
to the author, David Overbye. Then, I turned that into a blog posting,
“for astro-science funding—then beyond.”

What to do with the elaborate organization of notes that express the set of aims remains to be seen. But the thematic distance from the “way post...” below (textist) to “—then beyond” (cosmic) tropes the scale of my aims.

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way post up for words

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A new post, above the one before (above the one before (above the one before…)) allegorizes increasing departure (going up as pathing forward). Reading down the list as going back and disclosing implicit presumption by what’s above: that the writing has already lived what going down recalls.

With diaries, a reader opens to the beginning and reads into the future. With blogging, a reader opens to the present and increasingly (reading down) finds a past.

Yet, the writer’s present is implicitly drawing itself into an anticipatory path.

a music note

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While gathering notes (pertaining to a specific project) that are scattered across 10+ years of gardening, I found (several days ago) a paragraph
I deleted from a September 2015 posting which relates to an interview
of writer Siri Hustvedt, May 2019, I saw today, titled “‘I’m writing for my life’.”

She says “…‘I want to write another novel, but I also want to write this philosophical book, and I have many, many essays now that I should put together in another collection’.” Then, “she drops her voice to a whisper,” says the interviewer: “…‘I’m a little nuts, I am working like a maniac to get it in before I die.’” She’s 65.