“The rain it raineth on the just
And also on the unjust fella;
But chiefly on the just, because
The unjust hath the just’s umbrella.”
― Charles Bowen
I am sorry for not writing much, I am still on paternal leave from half my hobbies (my baby has grown to eight weeks today). My spare time is spent building things for this winter— a firewood holder, a better chicken pen, a more insulated bulkhead, those sorts.
In writing Where to Live I discovered the thing I really want to say, but first it’s best to relate a tale. So those will be next, as soon as I have time.
Meanwhile, here is a tiny creation story, Simone tells it in passing, perhaps it is best to quote the context:
Quite apart from explicitly religious belief, every time that a human being succeeds in making an effort of attention with the sole idea of increasing his grasp of truth, he acquires a greater aptitude for grasping it, even if his effort produces no visible fruit. An Eskimo story explains the origin of light as follows: 'In the eternal darkness, the crow, unable to find any food, longed for light, and the earth was illumined.' If there is a real desire, if the thing desired is really light, the desire for light produces it. There is a real desire when there is an effort of attention. Even if our efforts of attention seem for years to be producing no result, one day a light that is in exact proportion to them will flood the soul.
Write to me soon,
In a photographer’s shop, somewhere in Iceland, 2016
Simi climbing the burned house at Bancroft’s Castle, a few years ago