GET NEAR AGAIN

Experimenting with new Hipstamatic app.

As so often chronicled here, not being able to sleep just wrecks my next day. And it is even more frustrating when before you actually get into bed, you are too tired to walk upstairs and take off your clothes. So, I got a later start than I like to this morning. Oh well.

Heading down to Brooklyn today for the first time in many weeks. I don't think I've been there since early September! What with the hurricane, elections, nor'easter, flea deluge, and holiday, I just haven't wanted to venture out. Oh, and its cold and I don't find that incentivizing.

R and I went to the Brewster Library yesterday to get cards. I now have three library cards, New York City, Brooklyn, and Brewster. Does that make me some kind of library criminal? I haven't read a book since I have returned to Brewster and I need to get re-focussed on that.

On the other hand, I have been watching lots of things on Netflix as previously chronicled. I want to recommend Mozart's Sister to anyone interested in classical music, feminist history, or who likes a good, subtle costume/period flick. I also watched Our Idiot Brother. Although orders of magnitude less egregious than the likes of The Hangover, and almost any other Will Farrell movie, what a waste of time. I watched it because I have a fondness for Adam Scott and Zooey Deschanel (although that may be waning). I don't get it, but at least I know I am not going to. Bore me with slow or slight French movies; at least the language keeps me challenged.

There's not much to report and my head is a bit empty today. I need to get it together to leave in a couple of hours, so I will leave y'all with Jeff Nunokawa's very lovely post from today.

4273. "steps" (Shakespeare)

by Jeff Nunokawa on Thursday, November 29, 2012 at 8:34am ·

KENT: . . . I am the very man . . . That, from your first of difference and decay, Have followed your sad steps.

LEAR: You are welcome hither  (King Lear, Act V, Scene iii)

--and the very man, therefore, equipped to lead him to his sweeter ones.

I've heard everything you've said. But you may feel differently tomorrow. Let's talk about it again after you've slept. Someone wise (wiser, I think, than we both knew at the time) said to me once. He had followed me, step by step (or was it all of a sudden?--I can't remember which now), as I had faltered down from the better angles of my being. And he had faith (he seemed to, anyway) that, with a little rest, I could clamber back up the cliff, and get near again to my higher stories.

And guess what? When the sun had risen, I had risen a little myself.

I'm pretty sure that the love of his believing made it so.

Wherever I am, he's always welcome. Wherever he is, I'm always thankful.

-----------------------------------------------------

Note: love you so much (Frank O'Hara, "Steps")