Monthly Archives: July 2011

d came back from costa rica

and said, in describing the new game he’s writing:

There
Are
Two
Conflicting
Legends;
Both
Of
Them
Are
True.

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notes on a puppeteer

here.

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infer all you want

the mind is not inductive, as shakespeare’s contemporary francis bacon suggested thinking should be.  we do not patiently wait for all available evidence before advancing as short an additional distance as possible to our conclusion.  instead, we hastily construct inferences that reach well beyond what we find and that nevertheless, as in this case, thanks to the writer’s skill, hit home.  p. 10 On the Origin of Stories:  Evolution, Cognition and Fiction

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if you let this chance go by

miss amelie or audie…

this could change everything, reprogram me completely, if in the end the signs of danger meant only pay attention:  this is true (=beauty).  (little girl…your heart isn’t made of glass…)

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i see now

this story.

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on seeing

W. S. Merwin

Sight

Once
a single cell
found that it was full of light
and for the first time there was seeing

when
I was a bird
I could see where the stars had turned
and I set out on my journey

high
in the head of a mountain goat
I could see across a valley
under the shining trees something moving

deep
in the green sea
I saw the two sides of the water
and swam between them

I
look at you
in the first light of the morning
for as long as I can

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i promise it is

The Big Heart by Anne Sexton

“Too many things are occurring for even a big heart to hold.” – From an essay by W. B. Yeats

Big heart,
wide as a watermelon,
but wise as birth,
there is so much abundance
in the people I have:
Max, Lois, Joe, Louise,
Joan, Marie, Dawn,
Arlene, Father Dunne,
and all in their short lives
give to me repeatedly,
in the way the sea
places its many fingers on the shore,
again and again
and they know me,
they help me unravel,
they listen with ears made of conch shells,
they speak back with the wine of the best region.
They are my staff.
They comfort me.

They hear how
the artery of my soul has been severed
and soul is spurting out upon them,
bleeding on them,
messing up their clothes,
dirtying their shoes.
And God is filling me,
though there are times of doubt
as hollow as the Grand Canyon,
still God is filling me.
He is giving me the thoughts of dogs,
the spider in its intricate web,
the sun
in all its amazement,
and a slain ram
that is the glory,
the mystery of great cost,
and my heart,
which is very big,
I promise it is very large,
a monster of sorts,
takes it all in—
all in comes the fury of love

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