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I feel, I explained yesterday, like I’m sitting in the kitchen while God cooks dinner. No conversation, but there’s contact, care.

This is, I guess, my “finding-yourself” year; taken because everyone told me I ought to. I’m no more convinced of the value of this time than I was six months or a year ago, but I’m nearly a quarter of the way in, I suppose.

Posted in christianity, photographs | Comments Off on Contigo.


“I think it was figs that they ate in the Garden of Eden, anyway,” our professor said. “You know if you ate figs — they are truly paradise.”

I like poetry.

Posted in photographs | Comments Off on Edenic.

Six o’clock.

When he saw the site of a bombed-out police building in mid-October 1947, he noted that all the clocks showed the exact time that the bomb went off: “All the clocks stopped at six o’clock,” and then added, “This could be the name of a novel.”
Nili Scharf Gold in Yehuda Amichai: The Making of Israel’s National Poet

My father built over me a worry big as a shipyard
and I left it once, before I was finished
and he remained there with his big, empty worry
Yehuda Amichai, from “Autobiography, 1952”

Yehuda Amichai’s language — citational, autobiographical, and all metaphor — sticks with me; I love it a lot.

Posted in photographs, quotations | Also tagged , Comments Off on Six o’clock.