Wednesday, August 29, 2012

August 2012 Miscellaneous Concatenation

He agreed that the volume in question did have its gloomy and disagreeable moments but argued that no collection of mild pretty verses would do a damn thing for anybody. He added a list of four basic goals which would guide his vision:


1. To paint the thing as I see it.

2. Beauty.

3. Freedom from didacticism.

4. It is only good manners if you repeat a few other men to at least do it better or more briefly. Utter originality is of course out of the question.

- Adapted from The Solitary Volcano, by John Tytell, page 40 [four basic goals from E.P. letter]


The screen, the keyboard have continued the piece-meal assassination, that much is clear. A person can barely stand to come back to it, especially if a work day includes prolonged mongering and drooling over it. Pixels are all light and nothing more but manipulated in such a way they become vague blue glow and piercing death all at once. We were born in the wrong time, I said the other day. And if you read about the old world, you hear them moaning about how hard life was then. It was hard. The question remains though, does hard translate directly and without caveat to bad? Never know I guess. And then you watch a movie and you like it; can’t deny that. You use computers; drive cars. No one is claiming innocence here. Dreams of innocence are only dreams. That’s what makes it so difficult: the critic and bitcher is in the world; he must deal with these things; must moderate them and must do so for children to whom he has been assigned caretaker.

We have recorded some successful instances of shedding rooftops and artificial light. These things must be considered in a deliberate manner; they must be planned out. The trappings of idleness and atrophy are at every corner. To the credit of my kids: they have levelled into a pretty good state of moderation. They know what screens are and they know how to use them. They don’t stare at them incessantly though. A main parenting goal is to disallow the fear of the real world, i.e. animals, plants, water, weather, darkness. You won’t define what your kids ultimately like or dislike but if you can prevent the formation of road blocks and misplaced fears, at least then you are opening the door for them to consider various facets of Earthly weavings. I can say that without a doubt, one of my sweetest observations as a parent has been watching my sons ford rivers. Nothing more and nothing less than that. It doesn’t define them as elite or better in any way; but it shows that they can walk into moving water, pick their way across it, and find the toads in the sandstone cave on the other side. That does it for me in large part because it does it for them.

Most writing now is done on a Sterling typewriter, with green keys. Someone gave it to me free and clear, some years ago. He said he’d give one to anybody who was willing and genuinely wanting to use a typewriter. It is not attached to any electrical cord. Sleeps in my fly tying shop and it has a boot-up time of zero seconds. So recycled paper gets the words more often now; less often here at the Dell Corporate keyboard. The electrical synapse machine.

On the other hand, I really like photographs. So there are contradictions to consider. And who can expect that any person can walk around today without showing some? Why be false, why lie about it? I’ve got nothing sorted. But the analysis must continue; if it stops, there is grayness and likely some problems.

****

Carping around here blows.  That's the report.  Unless you like ratio of two hours per small carp caught.  There have been fish had.  The instance below is the anticlimactic culmination of an event in which I found four carp that would have eaten, presented flies to two of them...    one picked up the fly as I watched but didn't see, then shook its head to spit it out...     the other was addressed with faith and thus brought to hand.


There is only one possible figure number (93) and caption for the following two photos: Nightrider!



The American Goldfinch (Spinus tristis).


Continuing the photo record from the top of Chimney Rock.
Kids found a horsehair worm.  I've seen a few but not many.  U of MN says this: Horsehair or gordian worms are long, slender worms related to nematodes. They get their name because of the mistaken belief that they originated from the long thin hairs of a horse's tail or mane that have fallen into a horse trough. When they are immature, they are parasites of insects, arthropods, and other invertebrate animals. As adults, they are free- living. They are harmless to people in all stages of their lives.

Sandstone caves and The River.



Old backpack, book and a beer bottle.  Caught my eye I guess.

Cooking over a fire and sleeping out under the stars.  I will say that waking up outside and starting coffee and maybe some sausage or bacon on a grill is a pretty good deal.


Stopped at a small BKT trib to do some recond.  Stood in one place , balls-deep in good cold water, and caught around 25-30 such fish.  Pretty splendid coloration.  All fish 5-9" length though.  Ate a couple.


Speaking of pixels.  In a car the other day, the radio waves started swearing and cursing.  The hosts and the songs themselves.  It's called satellite radio.  First time I've experienced it.  As I drove through Dennison MN, just past Dennison Meats, a lightning bolt touched down on the hill to the east and the song Freaks Come Out at Night flipped on.  Trippy stuff man.

6 Comments:

Blogger Gregg said...

The disconnect of children to the natural world is really evident in Jr. High. You have gone a long ways to prevent that and foster natural inqisitiveness for your children, admirable. As the rest, sweet.

Gregg

2:42 PM  
Blogger John Montana said...

Write more. and send me some of that typed out shit.

3:34 PM  
Blogger DFrasier said...

Fantastic...

5:19 PM  
Blogger Voyageur.Pursuits said...

Avoiding didacticism. A worthy goal that I have striven for without knowing the word. Thanks for that. And for the thoughts on kids for when I have some. And for the brook trout colors.

And when I consider your paper-typed pages, I think of unreleased Stan Rogers songs, facing slow magnetic deterioration on cassette tapes in a closet somewhere.

8:40 PM  
Blogger e.m.b. said...

I've got nothing sorted either...but I do know this is a fine piece of writing.

9:33 AM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

Carp are poppin at King Mill.

FYI

3:27 PM  

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