So Long As You Move

“Well, I always know what I want. And when you know what you want–you go toward it. Sometimes you go very fast, and sometimes only an inch a year. Perhaps you feel happier when you go fast. I don’t know. I’ve forgotten the difference long ago, because it really doesn’t matter, so long as you move.”
Ayn Rand, We the Living

It’s been a difficult winter, but spring is here. I’ve struggled since January with allergies, infections, weakness and laziness. The worst of it is that I haven’t been riding my bicycle enough and have lost enough fitness to keep me from riding a long distance.

That’s bad.

The only thing to do is to start all over again. I’m trying to ride a little bit each day… every day, a little bit, and then, maybe, a little bit more. To keep everything going is tough, it’s too tempting to give up. One thing that helps is to try and at least make things interesting and there are a lot of compact places in town that I can drive, or better yet, take the train to – ride around a bit, maybe stop and read or get a coffee or a beer or something to eat. That’s not so hard.

So the other day I took my folder to the Mockingbird DART station and rode around a bit. I met Nick for lunch, then went home. No big deal… but it felt like one. A little bit every day.

My Xootr Swift Folding Bike at Mockingbird Station, Dallas, TX

That blue bag on the back of my bike is a Thomas EMS Emergency bag (I picked up two old ones that weren’t being used anymore) converted into a bike pannier. I removed most of the interior pockets and mount it with some carabiners to the rack. It works great as a small pannier (I have some grocery panniers if I have to carry something larger, like groceries) for daily rides. I have my camera, kindle, and lock inside and those outer zip pockets are exactly the right size for extra water bottles.

The Only Thing That Could Spoil A Day Was People

“When spring came, even the false spring, there were no problems except where to be happiest. The only thing that could spoil a day was people and if you could keep from making engagements, each day had no limits. People were always the limiters of happiness except for the very few that were as good as spring itself.”
Ernest Hemingway, A Moveable Feast

Glencoe Park, Dallas, Texas

Your Opponent Is You

“I can entertain the proposition that life is a metaphor for boxing-for one of those bouts that go on and on, round following round, jabs, missed punches, clinches, nothing determined, again the bell and again and you and your opponent so evenly matched it’s impossible to see your opponent is you …”
Joyce Carol Oates, On Boxing

Deep Ellum, Dallas, Texas

Polished And Muscular And Torsional

“Once there were brook trout in the streams in the mountains. You could see them standing in the amber current where the white edges of their fins wimpled softly in the flow. They smelled of moss in your hand. Polished and muscular and torsional. On their backs were vermiculate patterns that were maps of the world in its becoming. Maps and mazes. Of a thing which could not be put back. Not be made right again. In the deep glens where they lived all things were older than man and they hummed of mystery.”
Cormac McCarthy, The Road

Costco, Dallas, Texas

 

I Didn’t Want To Be A Novelist

I knew that I wanted to be an artist and it started out as a solution to making work at the beginning. I was a literature student, but I knew very well that I didn’t want to be a novelist.

—-Mai-Thu Perret

from Sightings, by Mai-Thu Perret, 2016, Nasher Sculpture Center, Dallas, Texas

Acquiring A Taste

“Keep on acquiring a taste for what is naturally repugnant; this is an unfailing source of pleasure.”

Aleister Crowley, The Book of Lies

 

I’ve stolen something. There is a bar that I visited last year, one that had an old fashioned photo booth back in the back, next to the filthy bathrooms. On the wall by the booth was a torn up cork board. A lot of people thumbtacked their strips of four photos into the cork, leaving them for posterity. I picked up a handful that looked interesting and stole them.

I’ve scanned the strips and I think I’ll take them, one at time, four photos at a time, and write a few words about the people in the photographs. Or, more accurately, what I imagine about the people. This is the last one I have (for now).

Previous:

Two Women

A Guy, His Girlfriend, and His Uncle

Meet in Air

Red Molly in a Leather Jacket

Time’s Relentless Melt

Found by a photobooth,
Molly’s At the Market, French Quarter, New Orleans

They were so excited – the drink had been so ballyhooed they even decided to throw it down in a photobooth and record the wondrous moment for posterity.

Unfortunately the stuff, despite its fame, sucked.