Thinking Again

I certainly notice in your next post the use of the term "falsity," wh. I like, when describing fiction, better than the term "lies." I've heard two novelists (w/ whom I'm personally well-acquainted) claim that fiction is "lies." It's demoralizing to see it that way, I feel. I like "falsity" and its counterpoint "accuracy" better than "lies," since they might convey an adherence to or straying from artfulness as well as a certain relationship to facts that pertains differently to fiction and memoir. I like the feeling in "truth." I disagreed [with those & other writers & artists] when I felt expected to suggest that "truth," at best, meant hope of "honesty." "Decency," bet. people & bet. writer & reader, a controversy.

Rock band days

I said to a new person, "I had had this rock band thing" -- by way of saying my life had gone out to sea -- but since it hadn't been my rock band thing, but someone else's rock band, it took years to realize what I should have said when I showed up safe on shores of heaven, of home, "that rock band thing," instead of my faults & errors & the need for religions. The sailors were living in New York and Madison and Binghamton -- they had their addresses -- there had not been a sailor in any of the rock bands in Houston. There were guitar players, and as happens with talent sometimes, the guitar players were too talented. There could not be places for all of them in a single rock band. Too many of them were too talented and their birthdays were May 1 and Oct. 31, 1966. One was born on the same day & year as JFKJr. One was a Cancer and could overhear voices. Korn was one of their bands. They were mean or neglectful or cavalier toward women. Cavalier was kind of nice. In fact, I had myself wishing that the new person could be cavalier, to let there be a door ajar to the past. Instead, the new person was nice and I did not resemble the me from my rock band thing. He had been a bodyguard and had met many famous people -- not famous like my Pulitzer- and Nobel laureates -- famous like B.B. King -- and had once broken the arm of a man who had messed with a woman. He was telling me this in an Irish public house, and an American with an Australian accent, a sea-nymph, was listening to us -- he said she was rubbing up on him during the story, but I couldn't see it because she was on his other side. I had dreamt of it, to know that fury (to break an arm) as he quoted MacBeth.

Lake Minnetonka

Wayzata Bay at North Coast

Feather Reed

Karl Foerster grass; Hydrangea; red tuberous begonia

Garden vegetables

Flowering broccoli & garden lettuce

Footpath

This is where I pace, smoking, talking of poetry.