A lovely evening...
Sometimes you don't realize that your writing reflects a passage that you've been thinking about for days until you commit a few paragraphs to paper and read them over again. I've been reflecting upon Wallace Stevens' work a lot lately, and you may remember this passage from "Sunday Morning" in Harmonium:
She says, "I am content when wakened birds,
Before they fly, test the reality
Of misty fields, by their sweet questionings;
But when the birds are gone, and their warm fields
Return no more, where, then, is paradise?"
There is not any haunt of prophecy,
Nor any old chimera of the grave,
Neither the golden underground, nor isle
Melodious, where spirits gat them home,
Nor visionary south, nor cloudy palm
Remote on heaven's hill, that has endured
As April's green endures; or will endure
Like her remembrance of awakened birds,
Or her desire for June and evening, tipped
By the consummation of the swallow's wings.
The simple use of "I am" rather than "I'm" reflects an intention to assert and maintain a state of mind, rather than blithely stating the fact. I have found myself retaining that usage over the last few days instead of employing the contraction. Sometimes we need to reinforce to ourselves the truth that we'll be okay, and that we're deserving of happiness; and though things have gone relatively well for me these last few days, this is a period that has required frequent self-reassurance, and my "desire for June and evening" requires that I spell out for myself as much as anyone else the way I want to feel and, consequently, the way I will feel, independent of the ways in which people or fate may act.
I'm thinking of attending a get-together on September 8 in San Francisco of some online folks I've never met but with whom I've enjoyed corresponding. It's always wonderful to put faces to handles. A prospect to which I can look forward.
A relatively uneventful day today; much work topped the agenda. I will be working late tonight; perhaps more scribblings will come later as "the shadow of the night comes on." (I do love that MacLeish poem....)
She says, "I am content when wakened birds,
Before they fly, test the reality
Of misty fields, by their sweet questionings;
But when the birds are gone, and their warm fields
Return no more, where, then, is paradise?"
There is not any haunt of prophecy,
Nor any old chimera of the grave,
Neither the golden underground, nor isle
Melodious, where spirits gat them home,
Nor visionary south, nor cloudy palm
Remote on heaven's hill, that has endured
As April's green endures; or will endure
Like her remembrance of awakened birds,
Or her desire for June and evening, tipped
By the consummation of the swallow's wings.
The simple use of "I am" rather than "I'm" reflects an intention to assert and maintain a state of mind, rather than blithely stating the fact. I have found myself retaining that usage over the last few days instead of employing the contraction. Sometimes we need to reinforce to ourselves the truth that we'll be okay, and that we're deserving of happiness; and though things have gone relatively well for me these last few days, this is a period that has required frequent self-reassurance, and my "desire for June and evening" requires that I spell out for myself as much as anyone else the way I want to feel and, consequently, the way I will feel, independent of the ways in which people or fate may act.
I'm thinking of attending a get-together on September 8 in San Francisco of some online folks I've never met but with whom I've enjoyed corresponding. It's always wonderful to put faces to handles. A prospect to which I can look forward.
A relatively uneventful day today; much work topped the agenda. I will be working late tonight; perhaps more scribblings will come later as "the shadow of the night comes on." (I do love that MacLeish poem....)