Circumspection

 

September 8, 2024

Angelic voices from Alexa downstairs, all treble I think, and probably Bach. Celestial voices from the underworld. Pachelbel is the Offertory this morning. 

Rich dreams. A recent one remembered involved a gigantic clear lake with sculptures or murals at the bottom, and you could swim down and watch the moving figures and get a history lesson. I had discovered this first, and was deeply involved in convincing others to take the plunge. 

Contemplating my interest as a young boy in both drama and art. I did not pursue those things very much, or any beyond the opportunities offered at school. I remember R church offering me a summer gig in a traveling theater company. I realized after all this time my failure to pursue these interests (these talents) involved pathological circumspection. Painting and acting were things which were seen. People knew you were doing them. People had opinions and spread talk about your doing them. Your parents watched you. I turned to poetry because it could be done in secret– and, God knows, in my house it was done in secret.