If you are very attentive, you’ll notice a slew of new blogs added to the blogroll. These are all lifted from my Bowen Island Journal and I draw them to your attention so that you might explore them and find out a little bit about the really interesting discussion we are having about what it means to blog place. For more, visit Fred and Pica.
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I am re-reading Cosmic Canticle by Ernesto Cardenal. The review in that link there describes the poem far better than I can right now. I first read the poem in 1996 when I found a copy of the book in a remainder bin as one of Vancouver’s small bookstores was being squeezed out of existence by a chain. I was immediately struck by the beginning of the first Cantiga: In the beginning there was nothing neither space nor time. The entire universe concentrated in the space of the nucleus of an atom, and before that even less, much less than …
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A secret manifesto for blogging: Bear in mind that the place of meditation is not of key importance, but it is wise to return to the same place at the same time daily so that the habit of meditating becomes established. The Buddha meditated under a Bodhi tree where he achieved enlightenment. An advanced meditator can choose almost any place and it will serve his purpose — a crowded market place, a burial ground, a cave, a park or a refuse dump. In his inward turning he becomes totally oblivious of his surroundings; or, contrariwise, makes the very surroundings, as …
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What street games did you play? When I was in high school, my brother and I and our neighbours played a game of stickball that went like this. Batter stands on our front steps, pitcher stands at the foot of our path on the sidewalk and the fielder’s stand across the street in front of Mr. Diltz’s place. Pitcher pitches, batter bats. Batter runs down the path, across the sidewalk, off the curb, across the street and gets to the sewer grate on the other side to be safe. If the batter reaches home (“a double”), one run is scored. …
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Great catch from wood s lot, which further elucidates my blogging poetics: I never liked doing things systematically. Not even my Ph.D. research was done systematically. It was done in a random, haphazard fashion. The more I got on, the more I felt that, really, one can find something only in that way�in the same way in which, say, a dog runs through a field. If you look at a dog following the advice of his nose, he traverses a patch of land in a completely unplottable manner. And he invariably finds what he is looking for. I think that, …