A human prerequisite is enduring and contending with persistent detours of the mind and body.

Harnett-Hargrove, Harnett, Hargrove

Heraclean tasks of the modern world.

1. Capture any solution and wrestle it into reality. 
4. Recognize a nihilistic response and remove the physical challenge that is begging to be violated.
5. Bend two wrongs to make a right.
6. Scare a murder of crows away with extraordinary music.
7. Focus your aggressive, uncontrollable humor on a mirror forcing it to reveal itself.
11. Save someone in anguish and then ask if this person has the knowledge you seek.
12. Use a gift as a great persuader.

13. (Alternative challenge.)
Create a shore for Michael to row his boat up on to.


Remembering Regrets: 
I do not remember changing the oil in my car in my 20s. 
Meaningless forced social interaction.
Rhythm grammer.
Appreciation / care / gratitude.
Compassion that is: The compassionate moment.
I often miss the compassionate moment to be kind and helpful.
Because of fear, rejection, pick any human condition on this side of the scale - I look away, and steer away - instead of walking into someone's life for that moment of need. Simply - how often do we ask "Do you need a blanket?" - and are told, “Not really." Instead of kindly gifting. 

When asked "How are you?" And, we simply  shrug off the kindness by saying, “I’m okay" - when it is obvious to both that something is at hand.

I believe in the practice of ebb and flow that is working within the heart of kindness, there is an easy give and take.

Coming back to Blake now and again has always been entering into the slipstream. I’m remembering part of the Four Zoas written by Willi Blake, but I need to find it … I am good at drawing, also at drawing blanks. 

"What is the price of Experience? do men buy it for a song
Or wisdom for a dance in the street? No, it is bought with the price
Of all that a man hath, his house, his wife, his children.
Wisdom is sold in the desolate market where none come to buy,
And in the wither'd field where the farmer plows for bread in vain.

It is an easy thing to triumph in the summer's sun
And in the vintage and to sing on the wagon loaded with corn.
It is an easy thing to talk of patience to the afflicted,
To speak the laws of prudence to the houseless wanderer,
To listen to the hungry raven's cry in wintry season
When the red blood is fill'd with wine and with the marrow of lambs.

It is an easy thing to laugh at wrathful elements,
To hear the dog howl at the wintry door, the ox in the slaughter house moan;
To see a god on every wind and a blessing on every blast;
To hear sounds of love in the thunder storm that destroys our enemies' house;
To rejoice in the blight that covers his field, and the sickness that cuts off his children,
While our olive and vine sing and laugh round our door, and our children bring fruits and flowers.

Then the groan and the dolor are quite forgotten, and the slave grinding at the mill,
And the captive in chains, and the poor in the prison, and the soldier in the field
When the shatter'd bone hath laid him groaning among the happier dead.
It is an easy thing to rejoice in the tents of prosperity:
Thus could I sing and thus rejoice: but it is not so with me.”

I believe this to be a confession and an apology. The ‘easy’ part is feeling good when the good is going. It is in those moments we feel invincible, and the dark side of fate cannot touch you... and in this feeling, while on the other side of compassion, beware of the revenge that may spring up that rejoicing in others pain ... "but it is not so with me." 

It is poetry, it is telescoped, this is only part of the work, there is much more...


A simple note in my apologetic conversation remorse way. 
Chopped up and spread over a page without much notice.

unable to refuse
you wait
til re-fuse

Idea: There is fascination with the sacred; even when it is someone else’s.

I do believe there is an aesthetic difference in essence art and personality art. The unknown always seems more mysterious than it needs to be. And when it is not on my mind, it's not mysterious at all.

Yes, that is the mood of the day. It will, as ever, make for interesting conversation.

Time is short, even though one can seem to get a lifetime of work done in an afternoon. The life times, real or imagined, stack up in the corner of my desk. It is hard to be one person when we each are so many. Funny how that time thingy expands and contracts.