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There's something pushing me as far as I can go
It is my brother's birthday. The monarch butterfly which my mother discovered as an egg on a milkweed leaf last week and tenderly brought inside to be sheltered from hungry birds and fed on fresh-picked milkweed eclosed and flew free this afternoon, she hopes to join its kindred in migration; she showed me pictures of the transparent empty chrysalis, the wings like black and gold stained glass. My physical situation which had been cautiously mending has rather abruptly cratered. And Toni Morrison died. I go back and forth between feeling philosophical about the constant changing of the universe and thinking that a small amount of stability really wouldn't hurt anyone.
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I brought some Toni Morrison quotes in for my students. I was delighted to have one student pipe up that she liked this one:
If there is a book that you want to read, but it hasn't been written yet, you must be the one to write it. (She was in the minority--most students preferred You wanna fly, you got to give up the shit that weighs you down.)
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Thank you! (I think of you whenever I eat burdock.)
If there is a book that you want to read, but it hasn't been written yet, you must be the one to write it.
I have to admit I like that one a lot. It's become a truism.
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Haha, my thoughts, too - I read about the monarch and thought, hmm, I read that story - and you wrote it!
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I thought of it, too, but I wasn't sure it counted if I did the writing! (I don't think the monarch was Toni Morrison.)
sovay, I hope the physical situation improves. (And also I may be in your general neighborhood in September.)
Please look me up if so! And thank you.
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