I'm explaining to my parents my interest in moving to a small mountain city. They are uninterested and I go for a walk. Stopping in a sporting goods store to buy sandals, I am waited on by a woman from Provence. As she measures my feet I ask her if she speaks French. She says that she does not, and begins looking for a magazine that will explain.
Explanations
caveat lector
For your edification and delight, the following flotation devices are offered:
flotson - concerning duende and the portable stallion; musings on poesis in convenient, bite-sized chiclets. mise en abyme - concerning the synergistic effects of Google and intoxicants; a prolegomena to any future metaphysics. flanerie - concerning the cosmopolis, ubiquitous technologies and decisive moments; Bell, Bresson and Baudelaire, a triple threat in the age of Nokia. oneironautica - concerning hypnogogia; an archaeology of sleep.
Special thanks to Joy Morton, Fritz Lang, George Herriman and Escola Portuguesa de Arte Equestre.
My father and I have joined a procession...
Saturday, July 12, 2008
My father and I have joined a procession of union men, traveling at night on foot via a secret dance step that identifies us by the soft and regular pattern of our feet scraping the ground. It is dangerous to fall out of step. We are separated when my father goes to help a friend. A fox comes to me and swallows an ember from my torch. The fox glows like a lantern and I follow it to safety.