HE SAID, MARIE, MARIE, HOLD ON TIGHT
And when we were children, staying at the archduke's,
My cousin's, he took me out on a sled,
And I was frightened. He said, Marie,
Marie, hold on tight. And down we went.
In the mountains, there you feel free.
I read, much of the night, and go south in the winter.
~ The Waste Land, "The Burial of The Dead", Eliot
Tuesday, September 18, 2007
was supposed to do my work, instead i ended up looking through old things, and writing things up. but i finally am home again in my writing, it took two years, and to be finally back, to be able to be perfectly honest with myself again, that sort of truth that is very simple and very quiet. it is like a reunion with myself. ithaca was good for me.