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Wednesday, March 18, 2015

copyright worries

oh good heavens, there ARE people who don't worry about copyright! whoof! so one can spend hours, days, and weeks doing translations that, it turns out, or might, in uncopyrighted fashion... maybe that's not to get up in the night to worry about
there are far more important things to worry about, yes indeed but what is that about we all have the worries we deserve or pick up and it's like that bag of burden unlabeled you don't want anyone else's of, right?
this is a 3 a.m. worry, sometimes the most interesting of all

Monday, March 16, 2015

we call this last minute!

so when I am about to go to the University of Colorado to lecture and have already sent twice a picture of a picture: first, Cornell's Taglioni Box, and next his Toward the Blue Peninsula and a different title, I get right now a message saying would I please talk on Picasso? So I now sent a Picasso of Dora in a yellow shirt and a title about Picasso, Dora, and Some Other Things, thinking I can get to that when I get to that and in the meantime have not been able to access my own university's slide room, have to wait until tomorrow for the very very very long address, I think: oh shucks, let's just go back to what i really want to do next, which is submitting a proposal for several original poems: from Neruda and Paz and Holderlin and Rilke  and Char and Reverdy and Mallarme and Rimbaud and so on, surrounded by several translations each, and I long to Get Back to that, to say nothing of my Pascal Critical Life I am really wanting to do soon, and this is what I should say to my students: Be Ready for Whatever You are Asked to Do and enjoy the flexibility, otherwise, just Forget It

oh, I found at least this, so I won't again Forget It!

just lost it

so I was writing about people changing the title and content of my next talk and it got lost, oh well, oh well, from Joseph Cornell to Picasso, from boxes to new titles about Picasso, Dora, and Some Others, on and on, lost and lost, oh well as I said, better get back to it!
whoops, I found it, hooray!

Sunday, February 8, 2015

wiped out

so that must be it, when your computer decides what you were writing isn't actually worth it...
was writing my rarely-written blog, saying about how much was going on and on and on, talking about my seminar in translation/adaptation and what we are reading, and what I was reading on the side like John Glassie's really fascinating book called A Man of Misconceptions: the life of an eccentric in an age of change which I am quoting a lot, particularly about Queen Christina, who knew about her makeup and wig and everything really greatly creepy and will sneak it all into my Pascal book i am having such fun writing when i get to it -- after preparing this college art association thing next week on "Casting a Talismanic Spell," such fun -- and it all got smithereened out, but at least it isn't that "revenge envelope" i read about today, how you send someone an envelope and out come lots of sticky pieces, ooof

Tuesday, January 27, 2015

non-snow days

how strange to have a day "off" when it's a no-show of blizzard....

so in principle I am writing about Pascal ,but in fact, am scurrying about to find which is the perfect publisher for a book on Jon Schueler (such beautiful paintings of northern Scotland!dlay and I got to write about his present show at David Findlay Jr. gallery for the beloved Brooklyn Rail, I always love it), and not thinking about my seminar tomorrow in Translation/Adaptation, and then our panel of four on Translating Aesthetics, for Friday, with Josh Wilner and Wayne Koestenbaum and Alyson Waters and myself all unscripted and doing whatever we feel like -- my favorite kind of unplanned panel...

So much I want to read and write and see, and all these unseen exhibitions and the grand seen ones like the cubism Lauder gift, such fun going around with various friends to everything... that's New York, of course, even in the non-blizzard...

Saturday, January 17, 2015


so I never ever knew that what my friends werre saying to me: "oh, I had two eyes done, so one saw far off, one near, I had to balance them, " and it seemed so miracuslous to me, so peculiarly delicious, NOW I UNDERSTAND, I GET IT! I had my right eye "done," as in uncataracted this morning and now, middle ot the night the next night I see BRIGHTLY with one eyes and the way I always did with the other, GOOD HEAVENS HOW IT CHANGES! and when the eye doctor or whatever we call them said to me: "you might want in six weeks or so, to do the other one, " I used to say, "ummm" in my usual and plenteously meaningful way, well, I see what he means. My husband, my beloved Boyce, understands totally what he meant, and says, "you'll see."

Well,  maybe. But in the meantime, wth my left like normal, and the right eye, everything sparkles. IT SPARKLES.
Whether it is worth the anguish of a put-in ring too large for my small eyes (who knew I had small eyes?) for the correction of the astigmatism thing, I don't know. At the moment, I don't think so. How fascinatingly strange. So much in the world goes on, and anything concnerned with just oneself and one's way of seeing is SO SMALL but all the same worth spending a minute or so over... this is that minute. 

Friday, January 16, 2015

and now all this

so it's on all our minds, France and Belgium now, and -- as so often happens, remembering 9/11 - whatever kind of writing and working and giving talks on this and that seems to seem beside the whatever point the world we know is making  right now, in Europe and in our minds and hearts

of course, what's ever relevant depends on so much else -- it all feels like climbing the Dawn Wall without any ropes at all, and still having breath ot congratulate everyone climbing and who has climbed and will