In some sense the world is always in the position of this unfinished manuscript . . .
The other day I saw a great photo taken inside a car wash. Today was my chance! We have the best car wash here! It was very difficult to take pictures (motion, wobble, can't trigger phone cam with your fingernail while holding cam against the windshield) for the clearest shot) and most of the shots are just blobs of soap on the windshield. These might come in handy to layer with something else. (I'm all about the conservation of material!) We were on the way home from picking up my new contact lenses, for which I had high hopes (silly me!) already dashed. S swung into the car wash and I swung into photographer action! For some reason, we had even ordered the expensive wash with the "tire glaze" whatever that is. Not necessary, I suspect. There is something symbolic about the car wash and the ease of our American Life, but it is too late for me to delve into that right now! But I do like the jets of water you can see above.
Click on it to make the photo larger.
Tonight, we watched a recent recording of Steven Brill on Charlie Rose (who was, as ever, a very annoying and crudely interrupting interviewer!) Brill's humonguous (IS there a way to spell that???) article (36 pages, the longest article ever published by Time) on medical overpricing, hospitals (and so forth) just appeared in Time and we are in hot pursuit of the text. Kind of daunting, since I am having vision kerfloofle. I just took out the lenses and right now am using the thick glasses which replace my lenses that were removed in 1983, when Dr. Shecter (the Silver Fox--what gorgeous white hair!) used the then-new phacoemulsification machine to emulsify my cataracts. These glasses don't work that well for computer use! They are great for mid-night Kindling in bed, however.
And here, from my current favorite actual-paper book,
something of Jagajewski's for you to ponder.
"Try to imagine a time when the Divine Comedy had not yet become an inspiring monument of world culture but existed only as a work in progress. Dante's busy writing, say, the Forth Canto and anything could happen; he could catch pneumonia and die before the end of the Inferno. He's already got a vision of the whole in his head, but there's still a long and treacherous road to tread before it's all safely down on paper. Bacteria and viruses don't sleep--to say nothing of political opponents.
I like to think of that moment, and not just for philological reasons. In some sense the world is always in the position of this unfinished manuscript, even if we don't see any masterpiece in progress at the moment."
from Another Beauty by Adam Jagajewski, p, 38
This entire "chunk" of thought is set aside from all the "chunks" which make up the rest of the book by the three spaces I mentioned before.