I love this line from the beginning of Peter Sloterdijk's Bubbles: Spheres I [Semiotext(e), 2011)]:
"The limits of my capacity for transference are the limits of my world." (13)
Gotta wonder what Ludwig W. would have thought of that.
There's a list poem in this. Just don't know that I want to write it.
Thunder. The weather folk speaking of day after day of rain.
Picked more raspberries this afternoon. There are few things that make me happier than a bowl full of raspberries from our back yard.
Was looking at a catalog of Edward Hopper's drawings this afternoon. I love the magic that can come from a pencil. There's something about the power of degrees of shading that I don't know how to articulate--tonalities of dark and grey.
This is not unrelated to my obsession with shadows.
Eileen Tabios' recent post about the haptic drawings of Jean Vengua is inspirational.
Jean's one of my favorite poets. That she can also channel what I think of as graphic song is crazy beautiful. Kudos to Steve Vincent for inspiring her with his own inspirational drawings.
I'm tempted to pick up a pencil myself.
Actually, I've just put down a pencil that was used to underline the quote which began this post.