Edward Meinert and some random notes.
. . .I got everything I need right here with me. I got air in my lungs, a few blank sheets of paper. . .I love waking up in the morning not knowing what's gonna happen or, who I'm gonna meet, where I'm gonna wind up. Just the other night I was sleeping under a bridge and now here I am on the grandest ship in the world having champagne with you fine people. . .You learn to take life as it comes at you. . .. . .to make each day count.
Saturday, January 07, 2006
Missing words.
There is some irony in an author not being able to write or say something. But then again, with no book in print, or the ability to claim royalties for anything I have placed here, perhaps the title “author” is somewhat dubious. In between Boston and a New York Chronicle – indeed.
It is very simple. All those stops, stutters and delay are guided in a notion of things to come. This is what is new and unique. Despite anything before, I never really felt, saw or believed in things in this way - here is what is now distinct. Each moment becomes more of a validation of this; I smile because I am surprised.
I may have received a journal before, but yours was the first to receive my words and is the first to be near me. There are many other unique ways to touch people, even if on the surface it seems similar. Try to understand how this is different and cherish that.
Listening and hearing is such a gift - sincerity secures meaning.
Speaking in circles? Just ask me what I mean, until you understand.
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