Sunday, November 8, 2009

Gratitude

Last week, my friend David sent me an article on one of our favourite poets, Kenneth Patchen, and asked me if I'd read anything interesting lately. I responded with this bit of vitriol:

I can't read anymore. I don't know what's wrong. I have weeks of New Yorkers piling up and when I go to bed, so comfortable, so tired, so wanting to read, so sleeping. It's actually starting to stress me out. So I read a few paragraphs of stuff a day. Mainly I'm reading school stuff and trying to figure out ways to make this interesting for people who clearly haven't read it...right now I'm prepping A Complicated Kindness...which isn't a very good novel, but it's topical for teenagers, in a sense...or maybe I'm stretching it. I don't effing care anymore; I'm so swamped with work right now and so stressed out about bad things that I do my best to stay positive...with generally good results, except when I have to combine all of this with a trip to the dentist. I had to do that today. Motherfucker. And I lost my glasses. And I lost my gloves. So, while generally good, I'm having a shit week.

* The shit week actually got worse, but the graffiti rocked.

** The generosity of others inspires me, and I must remember to be nice.

(Photo: Park Avenue Montreal, November 2009)

2 comments:

  1. I've bailed on the last 3 books I picked up. Ostensibly good ones, too. I remember when my mother turned the corner from reading Margaret Atwood to Maeve Binchy and then to more-or-less "embossed cover" family sagas. It was right around my age, I think. Possible essay topic: If it's true that it's harder to give a shit as you get older, is the cause (a) age-related loss of brain cells; (b) sleepiness; (c) the acquired wisdom of knowing there's no point in slogging it out or (d) some combination of the above?

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  2. i'm at another point on the non-reading spectrum. i think i've had it with docs, facts, magazines, on-line anything, and how-to books. not sure if i can handle very chunky novels, but something thin and smart about the breadth of an old jeanette winterson novel, my, that might be very tasty.

    otherwise i don't think i can get it up for reading either.

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