I was flipping through an old moleskine yesterday and came across something I wrote during a trip back to pdx:

…the desire to hold and the desire to enjoy are mutually destructive. …I possess this now, therefore I am happy. I cannot possess this forever, and therefore I am sad.

(from fowles’ the french lieutenant’s woman; one of my top ten and worthy of its own post. later.)

I’ve proposed to study effects of grief, loss, crisis of faith. Change. Fitting that I cannot predict what I will/will not possess in a year’s time….a murky place for a mind to be.

Instead, possessing, tonight:

free heat from an ancient radiator
a down comforter
soft and orang-y light from the corner lamp
a pot of himalayan mist
Mumford on the speakers
El Jaleo looking down from the mantle

and John Harwood’s new book The Seance. If it’s a good as The Ghost Writer I’ll be happy for a while.