Status Updates From Two Hearts, Two Mouths

The child and the womb, which came first?

So many choices leading us where we go, reminds me of a poem by Theodore Roethke. 'The Waking', by Theodore Roethke.

“When we are together we sound a single note, the overtones of which we both find pleasing. When I am alone, I sound a different note altogether. Try as I might, I will never hear the sound you make when I am not with you.”

Like one hand clapping? 😊

Alma's personality is not broken, instead divers(ifed).

I would only eat collard greens served with honey.

"the ephemera of the dying". I love that, because living and, too, Dying is also ephemeral.

I like the cave and sunflower quote on page 138. It calls to mind...

The largest, oldest Aspen grove is in Utah or Idaho. Ancient, sprawling, like aboveground mystery not in the spelunking order of mystery.

“Sometimes, truth and adaptation are the sane thing.”

Hermit crabs are enviable for their change, for the hunt.

Soft shell Lucky wields tongs in the kitchen. Adapts to change, to loss.

Alma…changes, adapts. Sylvia transforms. Truth and dare. Dare. Truth.

"Whether seismic or cellular, the change that is always underway transforms into what passes as inevitability. Inside the storm, we turn into the skid or we do not. What follows next—the avoidance of the crash or the crash—becomes first: the inescapable future; then: the unalterable past. This is not fatalism. It is connection.

Neither is it determinism?

I confuse cachaca and curaçao, not sake and soju (rice wine).

“Whether seismic or cellular, the change that is always underway transforms into what passes as inevitability. Inside the storm, we turn into the skid or we do not. What follows next—the avoidance of the crash or the crash—becomes first: the inescapable future; then, the unalterable past. This is not fatalism. It has s connection.”

I confuse curaçao and cachaca, but know soju is Korean rice wine (not sake).

I am enjoying the characters, and Alma’s favoritism of bourbon libation—the old fashioned over the manhattan. Selvedge denim is out of my league and above my pay grade. Architects are frivolous and life peters away lonelingly. Fledglings are rare. Birds in the hand. Light fleeting and fleetingly, life. Swift of foot, preening and self destructive. I am Japan. I like Jed. Lucky laughed.