A Necklace of Memorable Days
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"Happiness is a matter of one's most ordinary everyday mode of consciousness being busy and lively and unconcerned with self. To be damned is for one's ordinary everyday mode of consciousness to be unremitting agonising preoccupation with self."
Iris Murdoch, The Nice and The Good
What sort of diary should I like mine to be? Something loose-knit and yet not slovenly, so elastic that it will embrace anything, solemn, slight or beautiful, that comes into my mind. I should like it to resemble some deep old desk or capacious hold-all, in which one flings a mass of odds and ends without looking them through. I should like to come back, after a year or two, and find that the collection had sorted itself and refined itself and coalesced, as such deposits so mysteriously do, into a mould, transparent enough to reflect the light of our life, and yet steady, tranquil compounds with the aloofness of a work of art. The main requisite, I think, on reading my old volumes, is not to play the part of a censor, but to write as the mood comes or of anything whatever; since I was curious to find how I went for things put in haphazard, and found the significance to lie where I never saw it at the time.
" She strung the afternoon on the necklace of memorable days, which was not too long for her to be able to recall this one or that one; this view, that city; to finger it, to feel it, to savour, sighing, the quality that made it unique."
Virginia Woolf, Moments of Being
"Why did I write any of my books, after all? For the sake of the pleasure, for the sake of the difficulty. I have no social purpose, no moral message; I've no general ideas to exploit, I just like composing riddles with elegant solutions."
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I'd stopped to take a few shots of this street corner which I usually walk
by without stopping. I was surprised by the sudden appearance of a horse and
caleche on the way back to the horse stables.
This medical supply house seems to have been abandoned for a long time and
is in a row of buildings slated for demolition. It was hard to avoid the reflections in the window glass, but I
thought these shots were interesting.
Hammett spent the weekend with us while my son was out of town. Inspired by
the David Hockney book, I tried to take some photographs, but Hammett is not
a very good model either, unless he is sleeping. I discovered when he was
sleeping on my lap that he would respond to the sound of a raspberry, so
that's how I got him to look at me in the second photo.
I bought two new books for myself today, both suggested, directly or
indirectly, by paintist. It was paintist who told me about David Hockney's
paintings of dachshunds- and the Elaine de Kooning quotation on paintist's
page reminded me that I've been meaning to read the de Kooning biography for
quite a while.
It was sad to read that there's one less dachshund in the Moblog community.
A community garden in downtown Montreal, just below the Ville Marie
19th Aug 2006, 00:19
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I spend quite a lot of time walking around the old industrial parts of
Montreal, but I don't remember ever seeing this storefront before. The sign
over the door on the left says "W. Cadieux Machiniste", and over the doors
on the right "Wilfred Cadieux Blacksmiths Machinists Weldings". It's just
below the corner of University and Notre Dame, two big, very busy streets
There's another photo of this neighbourhood on the Urbanphoto blog here:
Montreal's old iron water pipes don't really get sent to Rehab; they seem to
be replaced by inflatable polyethylene tubes.... The building on the right
of the bottom photo is the Montreal Stock Exchange.
18th Aug 2006, 20:48
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