HOLD ON TIGHT

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 Friday, January 25, 2008 deja vu the strangest thing in the kitchen today. amanda asked, "wanna join me for running outside?" i sputter, because it is negative zero. and i sputter again. something in my mind snaps--really snaps--because i suddenly remember the memory of a dream. yes, once i had a dream, where someone told me to run out in the cold. i was not in ithaca, i don't even think i was in new york. yet the dream was distinctly wintry, distinctly one of upstate ny. i can't even begin to describe how intense that feel of deja vu was. i'm lousier with words these days--probably because i have so many words and different languages to manage these days. the scariest realisation i have come to is the realisation of the book as an academic object or commercial product. this either means i am growing up, or growing old. posted by dawn # 9:27 PM Comments: Post a Comment << Home		[publishing] Publishers Weekly . Dystel & Goderich . New York Center for Independent Publishing . Association of American University Presses . Society of Children's Book Writers and Illustrators [people] clarisse . nurul . aunty zarina (ummi's bakery) . jeremy . pak . cyril . softblow . karen & kenny (booksactually) . eric . joel . [other loves] digitaljournalist . ballet dictionary . poetshouse . urbanwordnyc [me] dawn, singapore, new york city, ithaca. [yesterday] early mornings are full of ache. i intend to nurtu... the love of good things from spain, from singapore, with love. train stops apples and milk the girl and the mirror travelling packed beauty world slowness [archives] January 2007 February 2007 March 2007 April 2007 May 2007 July 2007 August 2007 September 2007 October 2007 November 2007 December 2007 January 2008 February 2008 March 2008 April 2008 May 2008 June 2008 July 2008 August 2008 September 2008 October 2008 November 2008 December 2008 January 2009 February 2009

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

Friday, January 25, 2008

deja vu

the strangest thing in the kitchen today. amanda asked, "wanna join me for running outside?" i sputter, because it is negative zero. and i sputter again. something in my mind snaps--really snaps--because i suddenly remember the memory of a dream. yes, once i had a dream, where someone told me to run out in the cold. i was not in ithaca, i don't even think i was in new york. yet the dream was distinctly wintry, distinctly one of upstate ny. i can't even begin to describe how intense that feel of deja vu was. i'm lousier with words these days--probably because i have so many words and different languages to manage these days. the scariest realisation i have come to is the realisation of the book as an academic object or commercial product. this either means i am growing up, or growing old.

posted by dawn # 9:27 PM

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