“When someone seeks,” said Siddhartha, “then it easily happens that his eyes see only the thing that he seeks, and he is able to find nothing, to take in nothing because he always thinks only about the thing he is seeking, because he has one goal, because he is obsessed with his goal. Seeking means: having a goal. But finding means: being free, being open, having no goal.”
― Hermann Hesse, Siddhartha
Monthly Archives: November 2015
Depth Of Field
“Her life with others no longer interests him. He wants only her stalking beauty, her theatre of expressions. He wants the minute secret reflection between them, the depth of field minimal, their foreignness intimate like two pages of a closed book.”
― Michael Ondaatje, The English Patient
The Past Increases, The Future Recedes
What is the plural of ‘Pegasus?’
What is the plural of ‘Pegasus?’
Mark A. Mandel, linguist (i.e., language scientist and researcher), PhD in linguistics
The original was Greek, but we adopted it in English in the Latin form, ending in -us, not the Greek -os. So we use “pegasi”, not “*pegasoi”. We can and do also use “pegasuses”, as we say “campuses” and “calluses”: Eunji Choi is right about expressions like “the Mickey Mouses of the world”, but that’s not relevant here: “pegasus”, like “atlas” and “medusa”, is proper only in origin.
The Soft Wind Carried the Moment Away
Over the hill and across the ford and down by the meadow gate
May her days be many, her days be few,
The dream of the maiden will never come true.
For the soft wind carried the moment away,
And the birds they sang, but they would not stay
By the meadow gate.
—-Kate Chopin, By The Meadow Gate, last stanza
Unthinkable Complexity
“Cyberspace. A consensual hallucination experienced daily by billions of legitimate operators, in every nation, by children being taught mathematical concepts… A graphic representation of data abstracted from banks of every computer in the human system. Unthinkable complexity. Lines of light ranged in the nonspace of the mind, clusters and constellations of data. Like city lights, receding…”
― William Gibson, Neuromancer
One of the nice things about travelling around the… well, around… looking at sculptures is when you find stuff by sculptors you’ve seen before – and especially when you’ve done entries on them.
At the new Hall Sculpture Garden at the side of the new KMPG Plaza Building in the Arts District I found Stainless Internet by George Tobolowsky. His work is scattered around the Metroplex – including two at the Irving Arts Center:
It’s a Slam Dunk
and
Square Deal #2
Take a look at them – compare and contrast.
A Consolation For the Weary
“In the squares and in the streets we are placing our work convinced that art must not remain a sanctuary for the idle, a consolation for the weary, and a justification for the lazy. Art should attend us everywhere that life flows and acts.”
—-Vladimir Tatlin
A well-placed large sculpture by John Henry. I like the title – I’ve always been a fan of Tatlin’s Tower – someone should build one of those – a real big-ass version.
There’s A Lady Who’s Sure All That Glitters Is Gold
Make Me One With Everything
“Said Buddha to the hot dog vendor, “make me one with everything.”
― New York Magazine
I’ve always had a soft spot for Wild About Harry’s – the local frozen custard mini-chain. They used to have a location in San Antonio, above the Riverwalk (now closed). Years ago, I was wandering the Riverwalk in a sad funk full of Holly Golightly Mean Reds and I stopped by Wild About Harry’s for a frozen custard and it made me feel better. Thank goodness for small mercies.
Now there is a branch opened in Deep Ellum, and it is good. If you need a little pickmeup, be sure and stop by.
Don’t let the scary hotdog man near the door frighten you away.
Tears Were Warm, And Girls Were Beautiful, Like Dreams
“Even so, there were times I saw freshness and beauty. I could smell the air, and I really loved rock ‘n’ roll. Tears were warm, and girls were beautiful, like dreams. I liked movie theaters, the darkness and intimacy, and I liked the deep, sad summer nights.”
― Haruki Murakami, Dance Dance Dance