here's hoping
Vitality shows not only in the ability to persist, but in the ability to start over. - F. Scott Fitzgerald
Friday, January 28, 2005
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"So it is with minds. Unless you keep them busy with some definite subject that will bridle and control them, they throw themselves in disorder hither and yon in the vague field of imagination... And there is no mad or idle fancy that they do not bring forth in the agitation." - Montaigne
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Blog Archive
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2005
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January
(17)
- "not unpopular" with the women
- mcsweeney's recommends
- drunken dialing
- animal kindness
- it's cold as...
- true calling
- hit the road, jack
- tales from the crypt
- here's hoping
- more evidence that suicide is for cowards
- lessons from NYC's hot 25
- who knew?
- never bothered
- only 65 more days...
- what's it all about?
- ten steps
- watch out!
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January
(17)
See also: Everything Loose
Books
- Black Garterbelt
- BookFox
- Bookslut
- Campaign for the American Reader
- Carolyn Kellogg/Pinky's Paperhaus
- Condalmo
- Ghost Word
- I Read a Short Story Today
- Jacket Copy
- Kenyon Review Blog
- Literary Kicks
- Maud Newton
- McSweeney's
- ReadySteadyBlog
- Syntax of Things
- The Elegant Variation
- The Millions
- Today in Letters
- What Should I Read Next?
Music
- an aquarium drunkard
- aurgasm
- Brooklyn Vegan
- fluxblog
- Funky 16 Corners
- gorilla vs. bear
- Honey, Where You Been So Long?
- I guess I'm floating
- Idolator
- largehearted boy
- Last Plane to Jakarta
- Lonesome Music
- My Old Kentucky Blog
- Paper Thin Walls
- Pitchfork
- said the gramophone
- Sir Shambling's Deep Soul Heaven
- songs:illinois
- Soul Summer
- stereogum
- swedesplease
- The Hype Machine
- Vinyl Mine
- Womenfolk
1 comment:
THE SUMMER DAY
Who made the world?
Who made the swan, and the black bear.
Who made the grasshopper?
This grasshopper I mean--
the one who has flung herself out of the grass,
the one who is eating sugar out of my hand,
who is moving her jaws back and forth instead of up amd dowm-
who is gazing around with her enormous and complicated eyes
Now she lifts her pale forearms and thoroughly washes her face,
Now she snaps her wings open, and floats away
I don't know exactly what a prayer is
I do know how to pay attention, how to fall down
into the grass, how to kneel down in the grass,
how to be idle and blessed, how to stroll through the fields
which is what I have been doing all day
Tell me, what else should i have done?
Doesn't everything die at last,and too soon?
Tell me, what is it you plan to do
with your one wild and precious life?
Mary Oliver
New and Selected Poems
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