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I wrote this yesterday: "I am emerging from the hard dark place known mysteriously to the medical and psychological community as: November, December, January and February." Or you know, not so mysterious. It must be March because I'm instigating social contact with people. E-mails to writer friends I haven't talked to in months, calls to people out of town, making plans to have lunch with people, spontaneous trips to get shamrock shakes when I run into a friend on the train. Except I'm still out of the habit of interacting with people, I feel a little awkward. I'm not too concerned, I'm sure I'll pick it back up.
I saw Zodiac over the weekend. I finally put it together, oh yeah, I really like movies and books where people are obsessed with things. However, if you see it in the theater, choose one where the seats are not several years old and uncomfortable. It's a little long. I personally think it pays off perfectly for the wait, but then again, see above regarding it being my genre of things I like.
Today is supposed to be "unseasonably warm" so I think I will take my work elsewhere, namely the coffeeshop 5 blocks away with free wireless. I'm not a fan of too hot, too fast, it's super disorienting to my body. But on the other hand, sunshine and warmth after a drought -- it's a high.
There's been a lot of poetry in the household lately. I'm reading lots more of it than usual, but we've also taken to occasionally reading it aloud at bedtime before going to sleep. Here's a poem I've been thinking about today. It's dark and depressing, like poetry should be, right? I don't know, it seems reasonable to me to read this now, when I'm in a good mood. It probably wouldn't make for a good bedtime story.
Counting Small-Boned Bodies
Let's count the bodies over again.
If we could only make the bodies smaller,
The size of skulls,
We could make a whole plain white with skulls
in the moonlight!
If we could only make the bodies smaller,
Maybe we could get
A whole year's kill in front of us on a desk!
If we could only make the bodies smaller,
We could fit
A body into a finger-ring, for a keepsake forever.
- Robert Bly
Bly is one of those 60s Minnesota guys I think, into the "men's movement" in that way that involves naked sweat lodges and heterosexual bonding to feel feelings and not beat up women and go on hunts and re-enact Jungian archetypes and pretend they are shamans. I can't lie, I probably wouldn't have known better, that would have been me too. I criticize, but I can't judge.
I saw Zodiac over the weekend. I finally put it together, oh yeah, I really like movies and books where people are obsessed with things. However, if you see it in the theater, choose one where the seats are not several years old and uncomfortable. It's a little long. I personally think it pays off perfectly for the wait, but then again, see above regarding it being my genre of things I like.
Today is supposed to be "unseasonably warm" so I think I will take my work elsewhere, namely the coffeeshop 5 blocks away with free wireless. I'm not a fan of too hot, too fast, it's super disorienting to my body. But on the other hand, sunshine and warmth after a drought -- it's a high.
There's been a lot of poetry in the household lately. I'm reading lots more of it than usual, but we've also taken to occasionally reading it aloud at bedtime before going to sleep. Here's a poem I've been thinking about today. It's dark and depressing, like poetry should be, right? I don't know, it seems reasonable to me to read this now, when I'm in a good mood. It probably wouldn't make for a good bedtime story.
Counting Small-Boned Bodies
Let's count the bodies over again.
If we could only make the bodies smaller,
The size of skulls,
We could make a whole plain white with skulls
in the moonlight!
If we could only make the bodies smaller,
Maybe we could get
A whole year's kill in front of us on a desk!
If we could only make the bodies smaller,
We could fit
A body into a finger-ring, for a keepsake forever.
- Robert Bly
Bly is one of those 60s Minnesota guys I think, into the "men's movement" in that way that involves naked sweat lodges and heterosexual bonding to feel feelings and not beat up women and go on hunts and re-enact Jungian archetypes and pretend they are shamans. I can't lie, I probably wouldn't have known better, that would have been me too. I criticize, but I can't judge.
no subject
Date: 2007-03-13 05:43 pm (UTC)I loved Zodiac. I think you hit the nail on the head, it is great to watch movies about obsessive people. Cuz I'm one, too.