This tree is on the right.
[daily log: walking, 3.5km; retailing, 6hr]
Month: August 2021
Caveat: Poem #1829 “Thirty-ninth stanza”
ㅁ Kiamon dwelt in her house by the lake built by her grandmothers' hands long ago. Daily she walked the two blocks up the street, rode on the streetcar downtown to her work.
– a quatrain in dactylic tetrameter.
Caveat: Tree #928
This tree saw the cloudcover thicken and grow heavy.
[daily log: walking, 2km]
Caveat: On the mildly traumatizing effect of other people’s audiobooks
I had a weird breakthrough realization recently.
Someone I was chatting with asked if I listened to audiobooks. And I reacted with a visceral, emphatic, “Oh, no, I hate audiobooks.”
And then I thought to myself, now… where did that come from?
It didn’t used to be true. It’s a recent development. I used to listen to audiobooks now and then, that I downloaded from various places online. I used to listen to radio shows and podcasts, too, in a similar way. In fact I did that quite a bit in the years following my cancer surgery.
This new dislike has been brought about, I think, because of Arthur’s tendency to immerse himself in his audiobooks in ways that are both dismissive of my presence and that impair his own ability to function given the limits of his attentional capacity. And so, at some point, I started telling myself: I will never be like that.
It’s not just Arthur – but his way with them is more disruptive of his interactions with others than most people’s.
The easiest way to make sure that I won’t ever be like that is to simply convince myself that I don’t like audiobooks. So my insight, in this recent moment, was that I have, in effect, been mildly traumatized by Arthur’s audiobook habit.
Caveat: Poem #1828 “Not sure what this means”
ㅁ I dreamed the states became balkanized. Nevada was divided up. The senator from Elko believed he was a god. The Las Vegas one was ten years old. She asked me to try too.
– a nonnet. Dreams are weird.
Caveat: Tree #927
This tree is growing quickly right by my greenhouse’s door.
Meanwhile, inside the greenhouse I found a cucumber.
[daily log: walking, 1.5km]
Caveat: Unalanized
We put Alan on the ferry this morning.
Here are the brothers bidding each other good bye.
Alan’s retreating form can just barely be made out in the shadow of the covered ramp leading down into the ferry in the middle distance.
Caveat: Poem #1827 “Colloquy”
ㅁ Still hours till morning sun nevertheless I'm already up and my window's open so I hear the world outside the purposeful discourse of birds and the crunch of deer's feet on gravel.
– a reverse nonnet.