March 27, 2009

Oddly dark morning. Rumble of the washer several rooms away. I won’t go there until it’s finished, then to see if there is another flood or if all that time and money actually fixed anything.

The scarlet crown imperial is in bloom.

Cantaria sang well, so people said, for the opening of the GLBTQ conference at UNCA. By the time the evening ended, I could do nothing but hoist the cocktail to my lips.

Reading Mary Gordon’s In the Company of Women. It’s a splendidly written book, though I hate everybody in it. Every one of them is an idolater and a hypocrite, though it is perhaps true that one cannot be an unconscious hypocrite, in which case they are fatally deceived about the nature of spirituality, and of spirit. On the most basic level, the Spirit never requires judgment, or even opinion, on the actions of another.