Do chairs support our posture, or do they enforce a certain type of posture, maybe to our detriment?
This question could apply to any number of things in our world that surround us.
Though I’d reckon it is never a true dichotomy, but a bit of both.
GRIZZLY PEAR
Fifteen years ago, I came across a bluegrass band at the Tuesday Farmer’s Market. I was so struck by them, I followed them around that July 4th weekend as the performed around town in a wickedly cold San Francisco.
The group lasted for a few more years but eventually disbanded. Their CD’s are still a fun listen, and this song is particularly good.
Maybe it’s a bit too maudlin for mass consumption, but worth sharing.
One of my favorite books is Atul Gawande’s Checklist Manifesto.
The other day I had to pull some photos off the phone so I decided to write one up so my wife could do so later.
Yikes, what a convoluted process.
I mean, I always knew it was a convoluted process, but this exercise really highlighted how convoluted it is.
Looks like I have some streamlining to do.
Or maybe not. Could be that this extra effort is worth not buying another computer or hard drive.
With my recent dive into the Dao De Jing and the Zhuangzi I’ve been been reminded that some authors are just better at writing in english than others.
Admittedly the goals of these different translations were divergent – some of them are actual translations while others are only renditions.
Not surprisingly however, the books that gave up fidelity to the original text gained the freedom to really write fluently in the new language.
I’m certain the imprimatur of a famous author didn’t hurt my reception of Ursula K. Le Guin’s Tao Te Ching or Thomas Merton’s Chuang Tzu. But then again higher expectations often lead to greater disappointment.
In these two cases, they did not disappoint. Their years of writing for a popular audiences prepared them with the subtle tools to excel in their craft, and it shows.
You taught me the courage of stars before you left.
excerpt from Saturn, by Sleeping at Last
How light carries on endlessly, even after death.
With shortness of breath, you explained the infinite.
How rare and beautiful it is to even exist.
I couldn’t help but ask
For you to say it all again.
I tried to write it down
But I could never find a pen.
I’d give anything to hear
You say it one more time,
That the universe was made
Just to be seen by my eyes.
Maybe I was just in a maudlin mood, but I came across the lyrics and it just hit me hard.
Not so much for me, but as something to tell the kids.
However, I’m not sure I would. Maybe these sentiments are better left unspoken. They see themselves as the center of the world already.
Maybe like sex, drugs, and rock and roll, there will be a time and place for them to learn about this, but not now.
Hopefully I’ll be there to tell them, when it’s time.
I just finished watching the now concluded youtube channel Every Frame a Painting.
You can ask only so much out of this free internet world and we were lucky to be given these little five to ten minute video essays from the perspective of an editor.
I’m not a film buff, but each of those 27 videos were great to watch. Now I gotta figure out what to watch while I take my blood pressure in the mornings.
All my photos are essentially on two hard drives plus whatever is uploaded to carbonite.
Technically that meets the 3-2-1 rule, three devices, two different types, one off site.
But still, it does seem a little bit too much faith to put into technology.
But as a parent of two kids, when would I make time to print these out? What would be the opportunity cost of that?
As always, trade-offs.
The good thing about a sourdough starter is that it forces you to make bread on a regular basis.
Or does it? You could just make pancakes or noodles instead.
But yeah, it’s been busy and I hadn’t been keeping up with the breadmaking.
So when I made a loaf today, it felt like relearning how to ride a bike.
You know how it should all work together, but the body and mind isn’t flowing smoothly.
Practice. It’s the game. Even when you got it down pat.
The other day, we went to a free event at the Discovery Children’s Museum.
A couple years ago we had a membership to this museum, so it was intensely nostalgic to watch our daughter in the same space we used to frequent regularly, just a couple years older.
It seems to be a frequent theme on this blog, but it’s worth repeating. Single days crawl slowly, but time disappears fast.
As for the trip, the girl had just as much fun as before, but we found the place equally boring as before. We still prefer Springs Preserve.
When you live in an area for an extended period, mundane places begin to pick up the residue of various experiences.
Last year (just around this time) we sold our little Mazda that we owned for nine years. I met the buyer outside of this bank because he was pulling his cash out from this branch.
This year, I met my new tenant to sign the lease and transfer the rent and security deposits between our two accounts.
Looking at it, you’d never anticipate major exchanges would happen in this little parking lot.
Until it happens.
Twice.