Monday, December 3, 2012

Glorious Air Ringing With Mozart's Laughter World Wide

Got to Round Valley late, glorious 64-degree air ringing like Mozart's laughter superseding vocal chords. High transmission frequency and atmospheric pressure, molecules dancing like moves in Hesse's Glass Bead Game transporting the essence worldwide. Biplane dipped and rose, once yards over water, camera not handy. No one I spoke to caught any, but someone saw a rainbow trout of about 28 inches.
Thought how wonderful it is to be able to just step out of stress and breathe in the air. I love the stress of work. But if I didn't walk away from it, I might talk like Ernest Hemingway: "They get you in the end."

Insane old man with his compromise. The wife he took to replace the love he destroyed. And though they called Thomas Aquinas "the Dumb Ox," and Hemingway never endured such slander, perhaps lack of patience drew the suspicion. It is ironic what became of Aquinas. A failure at school, he went on to become one of the greatest Western minds. So if your mama don't dance and your daddy don't rock 'n roll, you have to educate by chaff.

Which Aquinas named written work one day, tossing his aside for posterity. Can't say my parents were shut outs, since my dad, a musician, directed a rock concert in a church and later worked with Paul McCartney and other popular greats. 

Apparently, McCartney does not only do huge, corporate-sponsored concerts as if he never practices or participates otherwise. I don't know the details, but the American Boychoir School--Dad was the Director--is a world-touring organization that does not only perform sacred music. They have a large repertoire. 
Mom couldn't resist the thrillers either; she used to sing lines from rock songs passing through her head.
I'm the eldest child in the family photo below. Dad can be much more handsome than he looks. That's why J.C. Pearce claimed photography's an art. A camera takes an impression, is deceiving if the photo is mistaken as a "copy."

Camera shutter opened and closed so fast, the way we appeared vanished faster than the blink of an eye. Besides, the photo's a standing arrangement and no amount of research could exhaust the influences on what made it. I like how I appear ready to face anything. That's how I really was and often am, but the notion that the photo represents me suggests that problem with mistaking concrete images, as if they contain a Shakespearian character essence without unlimited room for improvements and corruptions alike.
I believe in character essence, but I firmly do not believe in the tragic flaw--Shakespeare's idea--as something absolute and unchanging that others may know and understand, if, on the contrary, something absolute does guide an individual's endurance to positive achievement.
Shakespeare was good at dramatizing fools.
So much disappointment in people, and confusion, can be eliminated by patience and what poet John Keats called negative capability, the suspension of false self-assertion and of passing judgment too early. Tragic results of interventions range from unnecessary breakups of relationships to lethal consequences. 
When Josey comes home, we'll begin to learn Roman eyes mean many and all things. It's your move, but I got the news. We play more than chess. A flat board never could settle such a score. Hesse's books remain good, but don't forget Supertramp. The band is second hand information from George Bernard Shaw. Shaw took it from William Henry Davies, when he wrote the preface to Davies Autobiography of a Supertramp. 
The name of the road you're on may mean many things.

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