Found this written on a scrap of paper on my table. Making up part of a 'still life' with an electric razor, a roll of address labels, a pack of brass hooks, a hose connector and a torn-out square of cardboard with the word "Ladder!" written on it in black marker pen. It doesn't turn up on Google, so maybe I thought it up all by myself. Apologies if I've filched it. Here goes: "We may find that the future is not as reasonably priced as we would like it to be. We may assume, however, that it is correctly priced."
Imagine that echoing over the hills and down the valleys. Imagine having that etched on a tablet of stone. How much extra would the stonemason charge for "Continued overleaf"? I thought the future was free, anyway - and delivered with a gift pack of components, characteristics, challenges, et cetera. The other piece of paper that turns up regularly in my life is a square torn from a cereal packet, somewhat smaller than a playing card, with the message written in ballpoint: "You've come this far, and you still want answers?" I like that one. It's in the category of photographs, cards, letter, papers that I keep in books I might read again. Happiness is a bookshelf packed with added surprises.
Fog today. There's a category of rain that I've heard described as "wetting rain". I think this is wetting fog. Not just that, but it dampens down sound very effectively ... and I have just made a (re)discovery. Looking out of the window at the grey wheelbarrow glazed with fog (in which I have just retrieved some logs for the fire), I remembered the red wheelbarrow. Long time ago, university, struck by the William Carlos Williams poem 'The Red Wheelbarrow'. Here's the Wikipedia link. Williams was an Imagist, I read now, in my other open window, and the Imagist philosophy was: "No ideas but in things".
That'll do for today.
Imagine that echoing over the hills and down the valleys. Imagine having that etched on a tablet of stone. How much extra would the stonemason charge for "Continued overleaf"? I thought the future was free, anyway - and delivered with a gift pack of components, characteristics, challenges, et cetera. The other piece of paper that turns up regularly in my life is a square torn from a cereal packet, somewhat smaller than a playing card, with the message written in ballpoint: "You've come this far, and you still want answers?" I like that one. It's in the category of photographs, cards, letter, papers that I keep in books I might read again. Happiness is a bookshelf packed with added surprises.
Fog today. There's a category of rain that I've heard described as "wetting rain". I think this is wetting fog. Not just that, but it dampens down sound very effectively ... and I have just made a (re)discovery. Looking out of the window at the grey wheelbarrow glazed with fog (in which I have just retrieved some logs for the fire), I remembered the red wheelbarrow. Long time ago, university, struck by the William Carlos Williams poem 'The Red Wheelbarrow'. Here's the Wikipedia link. Williams was an Imagist, I read now, in my other open window, and the Imagist philosophy was: "No ideas but in things".
That'll do for today.