Friday, September 19, 2008
FROM MORNING DRIVE JOURNAL
SEPTEMBER 20, 2002
Rain. More rain. The gentle loveliness of its sincerity this morning. It will soak in. It will do more than simply lay the dust.
I wonder how I shall continue these pages into the future, once I lack the reason to drive ten miles every day and meditate on the day's notions. With the traveling I expect to do for my Vagabond project, how shall my focus on place change - since I will be in so many places? Will this become a much broader conversation with myself than it has been? Will I be able to sustain that kind of discourse over the long term? Will it be interesting and useful? You can't walk in fear of what might be, you've got to embrace what is, and GO. So I'll go. Doing the best my meager wisdom allows.
Now I've checked the rain gauge - we've got 1.5 inches. A soaker.
Oh, it's a wet grey morning out in the country, a hang-down sky north of Fairwater, a sssst of highway. Slicks of rain upon an empty field.
A woman on the radio says of a painter, "He carried his weather with him." That would be good advice for all of us - "Carry your weather with you."
SEPTEMBER 20, 2002
Rain. More rain. The gentle loveliness of its sincerity this morning. It will soak in. It will do more than simply lay the dust.
I wonder how I shall continue these pages into the future, once I lack the reason to drive ten miles every day and meditate on the day's notions. With the traveling I expect to do for my Vagabond project, how shall my focus on place change - since I will be in so many places? Will this become a much broader conversation with myself than it has been? Will I be able to sustain that kind of discourse over the long term? Will it be interesting and useful? You can't walk in fear of what might be, you've got to embrace what is, and GO. So I'll go. Doing the best my meager wisdom allows.
Now I've checked the rain gauge - we've got 1.5 inches. A soaker.
Oh, it's a wet grey morning out in the country, a hang-down sky north of Fairwater, a sssst of highway. Slicks of rain upon an empty field.
A woman on the radio says of a painter, "He carried his weather with him." That would be good advice for all of us - "Carry your weather with you."
