So it is that the
transmission of truths among men depends entirely on the state of
their feelings. We
divide like worms, to
each section a strong emotion, anxiously seeking a hole in the
ground. Cuttlefish display outrageous yellows and reds, as on a
raffled 70”
screen,
but no one knows if they feel these colors, or even see them. I
cannot see beyond my skull, nor hear beyond the shama thrush's riff
this morning in the cold. To be is to act, yet not to see effect.
Flat affect is a smudge of dirt on a notebook page, light absent
substance. James carries
a notebook for each island, pages and pages of dirt squares.
My former student stops me on the street to say she saw a thrush on
the ground beneath a tree. There was no story, just impress on her
eye and ear. I went into
detox for my addiction to narrative and came out a better woman, one
more alert to the interrupter's work. For this class, you're required
to subscribe to his twitter feed. Read
them from the bottom up.
--8
January 2017
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