The Bottleneck

“I am infinitely strange to myself.”

"What a phantasmagoria the mind is and meeting-place of dissemblables. At one moment we deplore our birth and state and aspire to an ascetic exaltation; the next we are overcome by the smell of some old garden path and weep to hear the thrushes sing." 

- Virginia Woolf, Orlando

To occasionally swelter or freeze, to suffer hunger and thirst, and especially to wear overalls and get the hands dirty, is good for the soul.

—Aldo Leopold, lecture, “A Man’s Leisure Time”

Floods

Floods

Hoop life may have crushed my glasses, but not my spirit.

Hoop life may have crushed my glasses, but not my spirit.

Hoop Life.

Hoop Life.

We all write poems; it is simply that poets are the ones who write in words.

—John Fowles, The French Lieutenant’s Woman

After Sir Christopher Wren - Charles Demuth, 1920

After Sir Christopher Wren - Charles Demuth, 1920