Wednesday, May 18, 2022
"Everyone is driven by the urge to 'say something'...We are oppressed by silence. We feel that to be silent before a wrongdoing is to be an accomplice to it, and that to be silent before the obscure is to be overwhelmed by it."
Sunday, April 24, 2022
Saturday, April 16, 2022
What is it that makes one think this really isn't a poem about a house filled with photographs and cutlery, cushions and stools and vases? Is it the attribution of sadness to a thing? One's own propensity to live for other people's comfort? To have been raised to be that comfort to those who will outgrow the need for it? One's stubborn performance of home-liness, stasis, to call back into existence what is no longer there? Though we would like to believe in permanence--the idea of it, spurring us forward, further into the future, with the promise that there will always be home to return to, no matter what--we are, all of us, irredeemably fickle, neglectful, and beyond that, mortal: so that even those amongst us who have in fact promised, in earnest, to return, are party to ruin--if not today, then some day.
Sunday, January 5, 2020
It turned out to be a pretty good deal. This illustrated Edith Hamilton volume is 1 of 19 Fully Booked gave away this year. We also got two interesting business bestsellers, a Newberry award winner that S says is really good, and a Neil Gaiman pocketbook. Oh, and a steel bookmark too.
Lucky us. Lucky S.
Paired with: Whittaker's Single Origin Samoan Cacao: Extra Dark Chocolate from the family's holiday gift stash.