July 31, 2019

Coughing fit burst a blood vessel in my left eye. That’s going to be attractive on the plane Friday and at the Reunion. I look like a TV alien. Sitting on RS’s discernment committee, amazed at the depth of his thought on things that, generally speaking, never cross my mind. People don’t appreciate how much of a wild thing I am, hurling forward mostly on impulse. For an artist this is a good thing. Some mercy has kept it from being a disastrously bad thing in other ways. For the most part. I also recognized that missing from my life has been frequent (even periodic) in-depth discussion with my peers on serious matters. We’re always flying past one another, sending out code meant to suggest our points of view. Sometimes with Jack, though that’s not frequent anymore. Sometimes with my students, though the differences in age and experience render that not quite a confabulation of peers.

Being freed (so I think) from all that Title IX mire has lifted my spirits and my energies. Worse than coping with a terrible mistake, in some ways, is being right and having that matter not one bit. I must remember perseverance. I must remember that the mills of the gods grind slow, but they grind exceeding fine.