Saturday, May 15, 2010

a freshly washed day

On the river are small boys in neatly pressed sailor suits, their folded boats grasped proudly in one hand and their mother's aunts governess's, sometimes father's, grasped tightly in the other. The fathers stand, erect, uncomfortable, all too aware of their own childhood expeditions with nannies and paper boats that inevitably ended with running too close to the shore and slipping on a patch of mud and falling into the river, the shock of cold wet water and the surge of fear followed by the scolding of the nanny and the quick harsh look of disappointment in their father's eyes when they returned home, crisp sailor suit now covered in mud and disgraced beyond civil recognition, outward faults obliterated by hot baths and laundry soap, but the momentary scorn of failed expectations branded into memory.



reading
"Human character ever more publishes itself. The most fugitive deed and word, the mere air of doing a thing, the intimated purpose, expresses character. If you act you show character; if you sit still, if you sleep, you show it."
Emerson -- Spiritual Laws
weather
sun --> food --> sauna --> sleep --> sun --> yoga --> food --> sleep