Robert (gurdonark) wrote,


late afternoon meditation, originally uploaded by gurdonark.

Today we had our holiday luncheon at the neaby Dallas Athletic Club to which one of my partners belongs. The salmon was as ever reliable, the decor undestated and appropriate, and the conversation was congenial and down-to-earth.

During the afternoon, we did a tiny bit of the toting-up which accompanies year-ends, in this the seventh year of this firm in the twenty-third year of my law practice. The year--and our client base--has been kind to us.

It's so tempting to see life in summings-up. My chess and scrabble play lately, for example, cause me to doubt my intelligence, while oddly I notice that a key win or loss by the right sports team can affect my mood all day. Perhaps it is the way of people to adapt superficial frivolities and make them omens, harbingers, or rollicking good yarns.

I've been reading a lot of things at once lately. One is a non-fiction history of the Santa Fe artists. I like the stories of these diverse people who congregate in a region of the country to try to find their
creative way. Among the artists described are people whose names have endured, and others who are not nearly so well known. Yet what does the "toting up" of critical reputation really mean? It's perhaps enough that people painted and sculpted and lived.

I bought a number of references in dictionary format lately--astronomical terms, botany terms, and zoological terms. Words interest me lately--not so much the sheer Scrabbleocity of them all,
but the idea that so many ideas lay in the weeds, waiting to be discovered. This is where the mapgies, with their electic ways, have a huge advantage over elephants. Imagine being unable to forget, when there is so much new to experience.

If I learn very little more than what a cotyll is and the name of the other father of evolutionary theory, then at least I will have gone down swinging--reading and wriiting and daydreaming and living, line by line, page by page, breath by breath.


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