Friday, March 13, 2026

“Here the nothingness is curved, here it is straight, here it rears up, here it sinks, here it rotates, here it drops, here it is burning, here it is hunger, here it is sleep, here it is an imageless dream within sleep, here it is smoke, here it is forest, here it is clearing, here it is escape, here it is return, here it is dwelling, here it is desolation, here it is consolation, here it is hand, here it is eye, here it is feet, here it is running, here it is rushing, here it is ambush, here it is capture, here it is liberation, here it is heaven, here it is hell, here it is beginning, here it is end, here it is duration, here it is conclusion, here it is inauguration, here it is departure, here it is arrival, here, finally, it is the hollow cavity of a cavern.” ― Giorgio Manganelli

Today, mid-January, is not a cheerful day; cloudy skies, arrhythmias, the usual disorder that takes as long to become drinkable as a sardine to become a sperm whale. Obviously the sardine has turned me toward oil, and therefore Oil, and the ungrateful homeland, I won't give you the bones. Well, on a day like this, it's difficult to do the only thing I really know how to do: buy books. When spring unleashes itself, and the wild goats lasciviously roam the meadows, and the scent of myrtle—a herb I know nothing about, and which is therefore purely literary—enrichs the air, I go buy books. Mind you: I didn't say I'm going to buy books I've previously chosen, that I absolutely want, that, once purchased, I will eagerly take home and read, then write a marvelous critical essay, a splendor of acuity and secret poetry, destined to earn me letters from passionate readers, shocked and regenerated. Not at all. The only matter that matters to me is precisely this: buying books. Now, the question, the quaestio quodlibetalis, is as follows: is someone who buys books a reader? Obviously, the majority of readers of these lines, if there are any, will think no; a reader is someone who reads. What a mistake. There is no doubt that it is natural for a reader to read, but I dispute that to be a reader one must absolutely read; and above all, that buying books is not a reader's act. But if you don't read the book, what sense will there ever be in it sitting in your library? And you say it yourself: perhaps I will never read it, perhaps one day I will give it away. Oh no, you make me say this last joke. I don't even lend books I have bought unread, perhaps never read. They 'serve me'. They serve what purpose? They serve thanks to the natural, magical, shadowy, and stemmic activity that a book exerts. A book is bought with a mindset that I suppose is similar to that with which they were painted. oxen and goats in Paleolithic caves. A painted cow is neither milked nor eaten, but is 'the cow,' something no other cow is allowed to do. And so the unread book, purchased and placed on the shelves, is 'the book.' Buying a book has a nervous effect that no other gesture can have; it is a completely dreamlike, hysterical, fantastical choice, and it presupposes a life plan, and naturally multiple books can allude to multiple life plans.” —Giorgio Manganelli, Discorso dell'ombra e dello stemma

The essential dilemma of my life is between my deep desire to belong and my suspicion of belonging. Jhumpa Lahiri

Language and identity are so fundamentally intertwined. You peel back all the layers in terms of what we wear and what we eat and all the things that mark us, and in the end, what we have are our words. Jhumpa Lahiri

My responsibility isn't to paint a flattering portrait; my responsibility is to paint a real portrait, a true portrait. Jhumpa Lahiri

I feel my writing comes from a desire to... well, it's motivated by many things, but it's inherently a contradiction in that I'm writing for myself, and it's a very interior journey. On the other hand, I feel that writers do make that interior journey out of a desire to connect. Jhumpa Lahiri

Surely it is a magical thing for a handful of words, artfully arranged, to stop time. To conjure a place, a person, a situation, in all its specificity and dimensions. To affect us and alter us, as profoundly as real people and things do. Jhumpa Lahiri

I recently discovered the work of Giorgio Manganelli, who wrote a collection called 'Centuria,' which contains 100 stories, each of them about a page long. They're somewhat surreal and extremely dense, at once fierce and purifying, the equivalent of a shot of grappa. I find it helpful to read one before sitting down to write. Jhumpa Lahiri

I am drawn to any story that makes me want to read from one sentence to the next. I have no other criterion. Jhumpa Lahiri

A book might reach out to someone else at some point, after years, or maybe never at all, but it is not up to me to write with this idea in mind. Writing is, above all, an internal dialogue. JHUMPA LAHIRI

Thursday, March 12, 2026

Bonkers over the Kong ball

The most coveted dog toy in our house is now missing. I have searched and searched. The two dogs each have the coveted black Kong ball but now there is only one and Romeo is determined to keep it in his mouth. We have three extra large Kongs and three gigantic monster sized Nylabones, they never get lost. But we had only two black Kong balls the size of tennis balls. So I will get two more and then we will have three and maybe the missing one will show up. Unless it was accidentally dropped in a rat hole in the backyard. This has happened once with a Nylabone so we usually prevent the dogs from carrying the toys into the yard. It might show up if I stop trying so hard. last time I couldn't find a toy I asked ROMEO where's your toy? And he went and got it! It was under the chair.

I will die helping people.

We were in the grocery store to pick up a few things and as we were headed for the popcorn aisle we spotted an older couple about our age trying to reach a bottle of Autocrat coffee syrup on the very top shelf. I immediately stepped up on a lower shelf, reached up, and said "There's only one left. I'll get it." I took off my leather glove and stood on my tip toes and started reaching. I couldn't quite reach it. My husband tried, was able to grab it, and gave it to them. They were so happy. It made my day. I will die helping people.

After we paid for our small basket of items, popcorn, bananas and herb tea and went outside, I realized I was missing a glove. I began to panic. "Oh no. We'll never find it. The store is so big. Let's unload the groceries in the trunk and go back in." Back inside I was telling the checkout guy about missing my glove. Then my husband remembered. "Where were you when you helped those people?" "You're right," I said, "let's look there." We located the coffee syrup aisle, and I found the spot where we helped the couple, and sure enough, the glove was there, on the shelf.

David Shiner Interview

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0hsX2C54JgI

David Shiner Interview

Clown Spirit 5.35K subscribers Streamed live on Feb 20, 2026 David Shiner launched his career on Paris streets in 1981, drawing hundreds to his guerrilla theater that pulled everyday people into spontaneous performance. He starred in Europe's premier circuses—Roncalli and Knie—before becoming an original Cirque du Soleil creator, performing in Nouvelle Expérience and directing Kooza. His collaboration with Bill Irwin produced the Tony Award-winning Broadway hit Fool Moon. Shiner's work transforms audiences into co-conspirators, holding up a mirror to society with antagonistic charm. A master of physical comedy and improvisation, he bridges street performance, circus, and theater, redefining contemporary clown artistry with fearless spontaneity.

Back at it

I have not been in my swim Groove since we adopted Lulu. Today I swam and it felt great. I was at half my usual amount. I love the water so I have faith that I will resume my routine.

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After a 6-week break, it is normal to experience a noticeable drop in cardiovascular endurance and strength, but thanks to muscle memory, you can regain your fitness in about half the time it took to lose it

. The key to returning safely is to avoid going to exhaustion, using roughly 60% of your previous weight or intensity in the first week.

Here is a step-by-step guide to returning safely:

Phase 1: The First Week (Weeks 1-2)

Scale Back Intensity: Reduce your normal sets and weight to about 60-75% of your previous, pre-break level.
Focus on Consistency: Don't worry about hitting personal records (PRs). Focus on simply showing up.
Short Sessions: Keep workouts to 30 minutes of light cardio or resistance training to avoid extreme soreness.
Prioritize Mobility: Incorporate stretching and light movement, such as walking or yoga, to address joint stiffness from inactivity.

Phase 2: Building Momentum (Weeks 3-4)

Increase Intensity: Gradually increase to 80-85% of your previous intensity, progressing to 90% by the fourth week.
Reintroduce Volume: Slowly add more sets or longer durations as your body adapts.
Listen to Your Body: If you are still extremely sore, take extra rest days between sessions to allow for recovery.

Key Tips for Success

Expect Stiffness: You may experience joint stiffness and decreased endurance after 4-6 weeks off.
Mental Reset: Acknowledge that the first few sessions might feel difficult; be patient and avoid self-judgment.
Hydration & Nutrition: Prioritize 2-3 liters of water per day and consume adequate protein to help with muscle recovery.
Start Today: Instead of waiting for a Monday, start immediately with a small, 15-minute workout to regain momentum.

Muscle memory is powerful, and with a structured, slow return, you will likely return to your previous fitness level within 2-4 months

Quote from Christopher Benson Slayer of Windmills (Substack)

I visited an old friend recently who plays Irish folk music. He’s done it professionally from time to time, but his main career — at which he also excels — is in an entirely different and unrelated discipline. The music is something he seems to do for his own pleasure and satisfaction. I play that kind of music too, though not nearly as well as he does, but well enough to sit with him from time to time and swap some tunes and riffs. On this recent visit he said something about this genre we both love which goes right to the heart of this question of what art is and where it lives. Irish music is quirky, technically-challenging stuff that is clearly not for everybody. Some folks love to listen to it and others just can’t stand it. What my friend said that struck me so is that however you might feel about it from the outside as a listener, you kind-of have to “play it yourself to truly get what is so wonderful about it”, because the wonder is really in the playing, and playing alongside somebody who does it better than you do, so long as they have a generous spirit, is one of the most nourishing creative experiences we can have.

I can only speak for myself, but I do know that my reasons for becoming a painter are very much like those of almost every other of my artistic peers with whom I am friends and who I most admire. The goal was always to figure out how to make things as well, effectively and originally as those artists who move me most. I didn’t become a painter because I wanted to be as famous as Vermeer or Van Gogh or Turner — all of whom inspired me when I began painting as a teenager — but because I wanted to be able to make works that would be as intrinsically good as theirs and powerful enough to move somebody else in the same way. That is still what I want, now fifty years later.

The joy, as well as all the struggles, hurdles and disappointments of being an artist of any kind all reside in the lifelong project of learning, through careful study, what makes other people’s work great, and of discovering the path, through much trial and error, that might one day lead our own work to that goal. None of that has anything to do with becoming famous or rich, however much those rewards might result from the effort. Furthermore, any art made solely for those purposes will last no longer than the cycle that brought it acclaim. It is only the other kind that lives long, and that stuff often achieves no fame in its own time. windmillslayer@substack.com

What the superior man seeks is in himself; what the small man seeks is in others. Confucius