(Dorothy Day Day II)

So I was still letting Dorothy Day and The Catholic Worker float in and out of my thinking, because I believe in taking effort to remember new ideas and incorporate them, but sometimes they drift. I was still marveling at the simple idea of this woman walking away from that bar with the poets, and making that conscious ( Read more... )

    It is the sort of good I hadn't remembered and hadn't had for a long time. Two stories up from the city street, south windows not yet getting any direct sun in the first hour of the afternoon. The room crowded with careful multitudes of letters and guarded by the thick-oiled beasts of  printing presses. Nothing to do for the next hours but ( Read more... )

Listen up now, listen up. I just might be on to something.

You see, you see, it is just maybe, just might could be that this cold what has found itself lodging in the dee-luxe suite of my nose and sinuses and etcetera head parts, perhaps I am actually, now, bear with me, perhaps I am actually perpetuating it through staying up til wee odd hours and ( Read more... )

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