Back now, at 7:26 stove time, from pooping while looking at little books I kept in book bag from 2007 ’til 2013 (since then, I’ve filled a book a year). I couldn’t find the [boss’s] jellyfish story there in that notebook, or in the 2001-2007 Moleskine. And I had some other thoughts I wanted to write down here, but they seem gone for now.
Here’s a note from my bedstand notebook dated 5 Mar: “President Baker” (a name I read or heard somewhere) as if Baker weren’t a name but a description of someone who turns presidents into potpies.
And so, I guess today will be a grading day, maybe also a posting day. Yeah, you don’t need to look at stuff and think whether or how you could post it, and to blog or Facebook—maybe be skeptical of those impulses, as I have been lately, those impulses (I saw two robins fighting moments ago, and I noticed that the grass—a strip of grass just south of neighbor’s house seems far greener than most of the other grass around) those impulses to publish right away (Ms. ___ roared past a couple minutes ago. M’s shoes are leaving little indentations in the hardwood—M says she walks on tiptoes) are from ego, are small, closed ideas. I would rather share open ideas, like not telling people what to think. Don’t compare Byron’s beaches to Cancun’s—but just look for a moment at what’s here.
(Dog pulled the leash away from me yesterday, when I’d stopped along rec. path to photo a small, solitary piece of snow—and dog usually stops when he’s not attached to me but he kept going into the prairie. He seemed pretty excited to smell, to hunt.) (Also, my phone did some odd things when I put it in pocket yesterday while I was logged in—it took me a while to figure out how to get the date and weather “widget” back.)
Maybe I can show my pics just as they are, without much comment, and maybe my poems, like the ones I made last week with magpo.com, are, or can be, similarly open-ended. That I don’t gotta tell people what to think about my pics or my poems—
And I don’t gotta tell them what to think about education or anything else in the present tense—in those essay-type things I write where I explain something I’m thinking now—that that’s OK, too, if I do that.
There can be many ways of reading my blog–by chrono, or reverse chrono, by category, to topic—search, etc. etc. The whole document is hypertext—there’s almost no one way to read it—though I guess older to newer is the structure of the blog—the blog’s structure’s suggestion/implication.
[From journal of Thurs. 26 March 2015, Journal 206, page 83-4]