Please bring any and all plastic when you see me* over the holidays (before Dec 31), including: beauty supply containers (makeup, shampoo, lotions, etc., bottles, pumps, disposable cloths, etc.) tape dispensers cheese packaging shaving packaging (no aerosol cans; those go into your home recycling), razors, razor boxes, etc. toothbrushing and floss implements cereal bags snack bags candy wrappers and coffee packaging, too.
If you care to box any or all of this up for the next days or weeks, that’d be REALLLY great.
Also, if you Dunk, please consider saving it all for an art project: a room papered in Dunkins for Duncan Grant, my/our dad. Ask me about it when I see you. Until then please put aside all Dunk packaging, especially the styrofoam and plastic cups and straws, if you would.
As for the condition, cheese packs don’t have to be clean, but everything else ought to be.
WHY the fuss, you ask? Call it a plastic diet. Short answer: don’t feed the birds, boys should be boys, turtles trump trash. Nevermind landfills, oceans, Maine > New Jersey. The great plastic gyre.
* Henry and Linus, we do hope to see you, though we know it might be a stretch! Henry, January? Do we get to be so lucky? Jule, Tante, Heather, Hen, Mike, George, Emily, Bean, maybe the Gilmer-Curtises have a JonO-sized hole in their luggage to fill. (Yeah right, you say!)
OR you can ship it yourselves, for FREE, if you just HAPPEN to be going to UPS in the next weeks. I’ll even email labels. Just ask.
it is that simple. The dreams themselves are nothing. They are the sickness you control, nothing more.
I rush toward you in the summer twilight, not in the real world, but in the buried one where you are waiting, as the wind moves over the bay, toying with it, forcing thin ridges of panic—
And then the morning comes, demanding prey. Remember? And then the world complies.
Last night was different. Someone fucked me awake; when I opened my eyes it was over, all the need gone by which I knew my life. And for one instant I believed I was entering the stable dark of the earth and thought it would hold me.
It’s all a lie. We really don’t know. We really can’t know. Every discovery about the nature of the human animal, about how the brain, the heart, the soul is undercut by the fact that it wasn’t true before, and won’t be true again, once it’s supplanted by another idea that will come around very shortly just you wait. This is the fabulous truism known since the beginning of the beginning: Time is not actually linear and neither is wisdom, neither is your body’s innate lust for existence, neither is the map of what it means to be alive. Want to make God laugh? Tell her your certainty. - Mark Morford, SF Gate, via John Olson on Facebook
“A master in the art of living draws no sharp distinction between his work and his play; his labor and his leisure; his mind and his body; his education and his recreation. He hardly knows which is which. He simply pursues his vision of excellence through whatever he is doing, and leaves others to determine whether he is working or playing. To himself, he always appears to be doing both.”
“Nietzsche was the one who did the job for me,” writes Joseph Campbell. “At a certain moment in his life, the idea came to him of what he called ‘the love of your fate.’ Whatever your fate is, whatever the hell happens, you say, ‘This is what I need.’ It may look like a wreck, but go at it as though it were an opportunity, a challenge. If you bring love to that moment—not discouragement—you will find the strength is there. Any disaster that you can survive is an improvement in your character, your stature, and your life. What a privilege! This is when the spontaneity of your own nature will have a chance to flow.”
“Then, when looking back at your life, you will see that the moments which seemed to be great failures followed by wreckage were the incidents that shaped the life you have now. You’ll see that this is really true. Nothing can happen to you that is not positive. Even though it looks and feels at the moment like a negative crisis, it is not. The crisis throws you back, and when you are required to exhibit strength, it comes.”
From “A Joseph Campbell Companion: Reflections on the Art of Living”
“Wallace Stevens, insurance exec, used his two-mile walks to work (he never learned to drive a car) to compose poetry in his mind and would put it to paper when he arrived at the office.”—via Mental Floss