Musings from Redwing Marsh
The end of summer whirlwind is upon me and I'm involved in more than tying up summer's loose ends. Labor Day weekend marks the time Ken and I start to prepare for our annual journey to Minerva, New York, in the heart of the Adirondacks. The last few days have seen me de-cluttering my office and the bedroom as well as cleaning out my file cabinets and the closets in both rooms, all as part of the mission to have an orderly, organized home to return to after our vacation.
I visited my cousin Heidi in Connecticut this past week and have been so inspired by her unbelievably uncluttered home that I've been sorting, filing, and throwing stuff away ever since. In her home, I was amazed at how peaceful it is to spend time in a place that isn't crowded with an overload of STUFF. Maybe, I think to myself, I'll be better able to concentrate and focus in on work when I return if my office is cleared of all the distractions lying around.
So here I am, and I've said nothing about books or reading. I'm excited to report that T.C. Boyle has a new collection of stories to appear this month. (I just love "What's New," the blog on his website!) Tooth and Claw, published by Viking, is Boyle's seventh collection of stories, and I can't wait to get hold of a copy.
I visited my cousin Heidi in Connecticut this past week and have been so inspired by her unbelievably uncluttered home that I've been sorting, filing, and throwing stuff away ever since. In her home, I was amazed at how peaceful it is to spend time in a place that isn't crowded with an overload of STUFF. Maybe, I think to myself, I'll be better able to concentrate and focus in on work when I return if my office is cleared of all the distractions lying around.
So here I am, and I've said nothing about books or reading. I'm excited to report that T.C. Boyle has a new collection of stories to appear this month. (I just love "What's New," the blog on his website!) Tooth and Claw, published by Viking, is Boyle's seventh collection of stories, and I can't wait to get hold of a copy.
2 Comments:
did you read the inner circle by tc boyle? i didn't care for it.
kyle foley
i obtain a position at a motel. i work the front desk during night shift. i seem to inhabit an alternative dimension, one mired in confusica, one kidnapped by bewildermento. i feel exiled from the norm, the energy levels are subnormal. the travelers are often gnarled by the night’s rough-hounds, enshadowed by its oppressive tentacles. by the time they greet me they are often partly subject to morpheus’ grasp, weary, exhausted by the sun’s radia.
in witnessing this cross-section of humanity i convince myself once again of beautezza’s infrequency. when a pulchro-stonisho femme requests a room i feel nourished, delighted, glee-rushed, moon-flow pulsing through me. if she is alone we even tacitly communicate that if circumstances were otherwise we could express our appreciation for one another more fully, hyacinth cultivating, ruby-bloom exploring.
but not only do i obtain more evidence of the rarity of beyoncum i also learn that love cloaks itself behind an even more impenetrable veil. sadly it is usually the ventogenarians who purchase a room with joy-stars in their eyes, rainbows connecting their auras. sometimes the terzos will purchase a room yet it is difficult to tell if their prime objective is the exploration of aphrodizjum’s jubilata, its delecto-spears and its plunge into rapturemento. only one out of every ten beautiful people are companioned by their complement, their economies prospering, their markets expanding, minervum and felicia daily polishing their museums.
i begin to compare aphrodizjum to a political revolution, the two week zenith of cherry blossoms’ rapture, napoleon’s flash of glory, or sparticus’ ephemeral terrorization of rome. these moments, although exceedingly rare, nevertheless sparkle in astonishing conspicuo. for a brief time the cars yield to the pedestrians, the impatient refuse to dog-bark, the strangers speak with one another, tips are lavished on servants in prepondera – so too the lovers during the six months before and after their marriage gaze at one another in sun-glare, caress each other’s hair-silk with compassion, savor every instance that the symphony of their voice vibrates the wind-pipes of the ear, but then, tyrants seizing power, sparticus betrayed by sicilian pirates, napoleon disintegrating in winter, the revolution fails, the grumbling returns, the love fades and thus as i witness this cross-section of humanity do i once more remind myself of venusia’s infrequència.
isn't 'decluttering' wonderful! I feel the same way...clean off the desk and all the piles that have accumulated of things I think we can't do without and all it seems to do is make things worse instead of better.
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