Drawing dated 24 March 2012 from Journal 156, page 18.
Drawing, coloring—”arting”—more a relaxation technique/practice than a “making” technique—and that’s OK! [From pocket page dated 26 March 2012]
Drawn 17 Oct. 2019
So, I felt too tired to want to work last hour and that’s OK, you know? I tried to annotate journals but I’m not sure I quite felt up to that, either. I had some cool ideas from this (and yester?) morn and they seemed underexplained but also subtly wonderful, and I don’t know that I could maintain that nuance, that I could keep my thrill at the subtlety alive as I tried to define the ideas. Now I know that things do have to be defined (in some sense) or the idea might not be any more than an image, which would be OK, but there was more than image— maybe there was idea or at least feeling to the original idea. I shouldn’t feel a need to determine things, but if I don’t try to define it, I won’t be able to learn/communicate from it in the future. I don’t always want to sit and annotate my pocket page ideas but if I don’t, the ideas will be just topics—not ideas at all. I’ll look at the words later and not sense anything new there, nothing crafted, no sculpture, just clay (a good metaphor?) [from Journal 312, page 15]
“He’s a dog of many enthusiasms,” said woodcut artist Audrey Christie of dog Sosa at her house near Dodgeville, Wisc. 20 Oct. 2019.
φ I don’t need to explain everything in what I publish to blog! And I don’t need to pick a mood/tone before I start writing. It’s OK to be a little messy and inexplicable—like life is, maybe—and like poetry can be. I don’t need to seem calm and collected in my postings from my journal! Why should I try to write like some Op-Ed columnist, valued for one’s opinions or having some theoretical program to promote and sell. … I’m not sure where ideas come from—I’m not a point source/P.O.V. of consistent ideas. I’m a conduit for ideas starting from/originating I know not where. No need to be self-righteous when I do have a new insight, thinking this new ideas is the best ever—even if it feels that way! Being intimate in my blog-posts, not necessarily maintaining a cool, normal exterior (mood). [20 Oct. 2019 journal, J310]
Hummus plate at Sahara Restaurant, Rockford, Ill. 19 Oct. 2019.
φ “Verse Vice-ah”: a poem title? [19 Oct. pocket pages]
An abstraction drawn in Journal 313 on 9 Nov. 2019.
φ Maybe the shocking thing about history, about the past, is that it really wasn’t (isn’t?) any different to be alive then as now. Perhaps they look at the world around them (technological, economic, political, social) more or less as we do today—even using “we” is problematic because there’s probably more difference between any two people’s lifestyles, worldviews, conceptions than … well, I’m trying to compare this to differences between being alive now and being alive then. But to make that comparison, I’m relying on my own memories and trying to conceptualize and characterize (describe) what it’s like to be alive now and in 2011, say, or 1995, or 1981—and if instead I’m thinking of 1940 by what my grandfathers Lorin or Ernest (or, frankly, anybody else) thought of or did in those times, then I’m trying to understand their world through their words and actions. And with anyone else, it’s even harder to understand them so that I can see how they’re interpreting the world. It’s a tricky , perhaps only marginally valuable, way to learn about the world. But maybe the first wrong step, or misleading step, is imaging that times were different. Maybe it’s like trying to imagine now my neighbors or students or colleagues or politicians imagine/conceive of this world. I don’t think I understand how my neighbors, my fellows alive at the same time I am alive, think. [9 Nov. 2019 entry in J313]
22 Sept. 2019. On the front of the truck parked facing me in Oregon, Ill.
φ You even don’t have to fret about other drivers not using their turn signals!