Notice that I begin with an old fashioned salutation. It feels appropriate, in speaking with you through the alphabet (thinking now of your glorious videographed conversation with David Abram now many years back, the one still on YouTube). The breeze is blowing the green leaves between us now, and you can hear it as part of our conversation. It's no monologue. I know you know what I mean, dear distant brother.
I'm almost certain you at least know the filmic work of my longtime friend, Godfrey Reggio -- a man I seldom see anymore, mostly due to the closure of the cafe where we met, which was to us what a pub is to an Englishman. Anyhow, you remind me of him. Or, rather, the two of you rhyme with one another in interesting ways, given how different you are. But to my heart, you're utterly uniquely Dougald -- and that's perhaps the main rhyme you have with Godfrey. Few people ever so fully become themselves as the two of you have. And it makes me step back in awe, thrilled to see it, as it gives me something worthwhile to attempt--but not by striving. Striving is for the birds. Or, rather, notice how birds don't bother to strive!
What you have, my dear distant brother, is a voice entirely unlike any other voice -- both in the literal sense of the sound of your speaking, and in the more figurative sense of your use of the alphabet. Everything about you is utterly precious to me. You have the soulfulness of a master of Jazz. Thank you. And congratulations in giving your gift, now in the form of a book. It will sit beside my bed, on a little table for the most precious of souls alphabetized.
But one last thing. I was prepared to be disappointed and disheartened by not being able to post a 'comment' in your 'stack, blocked for not having paid a fee for such parking. But you did it. You uprooted the parking meter! Yay for us!
Dear Dougald,
Notice that I begin with an old fashioned salutation. It feels appropriate, in speaking with you through the alphabet (thinking now of your glorious videographed conversation with David Abram now many years back, the one still on YouTube). The breeze is blowing the green leaves between us now, and you can hear it as part of our conversation. It's no monologue. I know you know what I mean, dear distant brother.
I'm almost certain you at least know the filmic work of my longtime friend, Godfrey Reggio -- a man I seldom see anymore, mostly due to the closure of the cafe where we met, which was to us what a pub is to an Englishman. Anyhow, you remind me of him. Or, rather, the two of you rhyme with one another in interesting ways, given how different you are. But to my heart, you're utterly uniquely Dougald -- and that's perhaps the main rhyme you have with Godfrey. Few people ever so fully become themselves as the two of you have. And it makes me step back in awe, thrilled to see it, as it gives me something worthwhile to attempt--but not by striving. Striving is for the birds. Or, rather, notice how birds don't bother to strive!
What you have, my dear distant brother, is a voice entirely unlike any other voice -- both in the literal sense of the sound of your speaking, and in the more figurative sense of your use of the alphabet. Everything about you is utterly precious to me. You have the soulfulness of a master of Jazz. Thank you. And congratulations in giving your gift, now in the form of a book. It will sit beside my bed, on a little table for the most precious of souls alphabetized.
But one last thing. I was prepared to be disappointed and disheartened by not being able to post a 'comment' in your 'stack, blocked for not having paid a fee for such parking. But you did it. You uprooted the parking meter! Yay for us!
Hey, the link with 'full details for today's event' seems to be broken. Can't join live but would love to sign up for the recording.