When memory arises of memory arising. Because my memories scared me, I stayed home. It was a kind of “memory care,” that self-dementia, lacking care's burden. She wasn't speaking the language of idiocy, but of modernism. That was when I learned the meaning of “moderation,” stuck between two scholars arguing. It's the function of leaves to grow, not entomb, yet the dead seem to blossom there. One character born at adult height grew down, until his feet took their place in rusted molds. The mountains walk forward and back; in heavy rains waterfalls fall upward. In the Swiss woods, my father and I saw a young deer. Imagine that someone would take a gun and kill it, he said. I could just be with him, without speaking. He was so self-contained. His voice a trellis. His garden shoes, 7.5D, sat beside the laundry room door.
--9 June 2014