Wednesday, November 20, 2002

just a feeling, from the photo archives

"I hate everything that merely instructs me without augmenting or directly invigorating my activity."

Goethe

"My problem is that, to me, it's only moderately satisfying to learn what others know, read what others have written, see second-hand the invention or insight. Instead, I'd like to create it myself, whatever it might be."

LB, July 4, 1996

[I'm occasionally reviewing old, hand-written notebooks and I've decided to quote myself now and again. And I'm no closer, am I?]

It's not that I did nothing. I had a good workout. I mailed a certified letter to the troublesome insurance company. (And later read in one of my papers that they might go bankrupt, Chapter 11.) I made a card for my father-in-laws birthday and fixed his present. I talked to my dad about his trip when he dropped by. I read some and organized some pictures on my computer. I even worked a bit in the yard.

I wasted time watching West Wing and Law and Order as well as a thing on public TV about exhuming Titanic victims to identify them. I worked some crosswords and read papers.

But it felt like a bunch of nothing. Like I'd goofed off all day. And, I guess, in a way, I had.

I think I must either accomplish something more or something different or learn to look at it in a new way.

I sketched out two short stories I'll proably never write in my head. Does that count?

JUST TYPING
There is a correctness.
A timing.
A path.
I just.
Haven't found.
Or else.
It's really all chaos.
I've suspected that.