“I really didn’t realize the librarians were, you know, such a dangerous group. They are subversive. You think they’re just sitting there at the desk, all quiet and everything. They’re like plotting the revolution, man. I wouldn’t mess with them. You know, they’ve had their budgets cut. They’re paid nothing. Books are falling apart. The libraries are just like the ass end of everything, right?” Michael Moore
praying for Troy Davis
“But what then is capital punishment but the most premeditated of murders, to which no criminal’s deed, however calculated it may be, can be compared? For there to be equivalence, the death penalty would have to punish a criminal who had warned his victim of the date at which he would inflict a horrible death on him and who, from that moment onward, had confined him at his mercy for months. Such a monster is not encountered in private life.” — Albert Camus, writer, philosopher, Nobel laureate (1913-1960)
He is gone now. — wm
final galleys on book
proofing all week.
i could drink the hell out of a pot of coffee.
best,
wm
“How many cares one loses when one decides not to be something but to be someone.” — Coco Chanel
updated at 3:45 p.m. on Wednesday to say, DONE with first 142 pages of edit; 229 pages more to go. Why did I write such a cussin’ long book, anyway? It started as a short story. Also, I could use some encouragement at this point, FYI.
Grace Paley poem for rainy Sunday evening
“The Sad Children’s Song”
by Grace Paley
This house is a wreck said the children
when they came home with their children
Your papers are all over the place
The chairs are covered with books
and look brown leaves are piled on the floor
under the wandering Jews
Your face is a wreck said the children
when they came home with their children
There are lines all over your face
your neck’s like a curious turtle’s
Why did you let yourself go?
Where are you going without us?
This world is a wreck said the children
When they came home with their children
There are bombs all over the place
There’s no water The fields are all poisoned
Why did you leave things like this?
Where can we go said the children
What can we say to our children?
hope
A.A. Thoughts For The Day:
Restraint
“Our first objective will be the development of self-restraint.
This carries a top priority rating.
When we speak or act hastily or rashly, the ability to be fair-minded and tolerant evaporates on the spot.
One unkind tirade or one willful snap judgment can ruin or relation with another person for a whole day, or maybe a whole year.
Nothing pays off like restraint of tongue and pen.”
c. 1952AAWS, Twelve Steps and Twelve Traditions, p. 91
note from my good friend…
…when I told her I did not get the full-time job I interviewed for (adding that I have not been offered full-time work since 1998):
“I think you forgot that you have been working more than full time since 1999. Yes it’s unpaid and undervalued but you have been doing the essential and invisible work of mothering since you got pregnant. After the revolution, mothers and elders will be revered properly, but until then we have each other to remind us that making breakfast, feeling warm foreheads, remembering the asthma meds, folding laundry, etc. is THE MOST IMPORTANT WORK ON EARTH.”
So those of you who need to hear this today? Yes, it is the most important work on Earth.
Thanks, my friend. I needed to hear that.
on the nightstand: Paley, Zen and “Awaken”
“Life and love are life and love, a bunch of violets is a bunch of violets, and to drag in the idea of a point is to ruin everything. Live and let live, love and let love, flower and fade, and follow the natural curve, which flows on, pointless.” — D.H. Lawrence
“Thirty years ago my older brother, who was ten years old at the time, was trying to get a report on birds written that he’d had three months to write. It was due the next day. We were out at our family cabin in Bolinas, and he was at the kitchen table close to tears, surrounded by binder paper and pencils and unopened books on birds, immobilized by the hugeness of the task ahead. Then my father sat down beside him, put his arm around my brother’s shoulder, and said, ‘Bird by bird, buddy. Just take it bird by bird.’” -Anne Lamott
State Motto for the State of Oregon
“She flies with her own wings.”