Alright, I will say some more things. Right now on the passenger's seat of my truck: A 25-foot tape measure and a dull carpenter's pencil. A 2006 road atlas, both covers missing, the first and last remaing pages covered with bits of writing I've scribbled there while driving. A half-gallon jug of apple cider with a few swigs left in it. And a copy of the Norton "Adrienne Rich: Poetry and Prose", with a receipt from Five Guys holding my place.
(I no longer have that truck.)
I think this is a deeply gorgeous piece of thinking and writing:
Rebecca Solnit on Woolf's Darkness
This makes me laugh:
Ali G interviews Noam Chomsky
and this is how I think we all need to be
Brené Brown on Vulnerability
My username comes from this.
Alternate answer: "I remember myself. That's the work that I do." (Dar Williams)
For years, I've been building houses, and things: "I am trying to make a building which is like the smile on a person's face, which has that kind of rightness about it. When someone smiles, it is as though the fabric of the universe seems to melt. By the standards of the smile, the actual contents of a person's face are incredibly unimportant..." (Christopher Alexander)
Alternate answer: "For one human being to love another: that is perhaps the most difficult of all our tasks, the ultimate, the last test and proof, the work for which all other work is but preparation..."
Some poets: Adrienne Rich, Naomi Shihab Nye, Li Young-Lee, Claudia Rankine (you need to read "Citizen"), Maggie Nelson ("Bluets"), Plath yes of course, Philip Levine, Marie Howe, Galway Kinnell, Williams, Oppen, Levertov. And mine—at least, some of it.
Some prose: Rebecca Solnit blows ne away. Also Annie Dillard, Ursula Le Guin (The Dispossessed and Left Hand of Darkness), James Baldwin, Clarice Lispector, Keri Hulme, Marilynne Robinson, Austen. Christopher Alexander’s writings on architecture (A Pattern Language, The Nature of Order, etc…). John McPhee.
Despite having a crush (intellectual and otherwise) on Naomi Klein, I haven't tackled "This Changes Everything" yet. Soon.
I will read the back of the cereal box if nothing else is available.
Art and architecture: The painter Charles Burchfield. The Hungarian Organic architects–Imre Makovecz, etc... Earlier Frank Lloyd Wright--before he started letting his head get in the way. Andy Goldsworthy (see "Rivers and Tides" if you haven't). Charles Rennie Mackintosh.
What we'd do without Amy Goodman, I can't imagine.
Too many songs:
—Wilco, "On and On and On". I could include probably a third of their catalog in this list. But this may be the most beautiful song I know. "We can't deny/even the gentlest tide..."
—Son Volt, "Live Free". "Looking for/ the right kind/ of live free or die..."
—Hem, "Redwing". My favorite fluttery-feeling falling-in-love song.
—The Decemberists, "Song for Myla Goldberg" This one just plain makes me happy. I will admit to having a soft spot for Myla—partly because I liked Bee Season, and partly because she went, as I did, to Oberlin. Which I mention here because the place still means something to me.
—Terre and Maggie Roche, "Down the Dream". A song almost no one knows from an album almost no one knows. But oh, they should. "We drank his pint of freedom/ down the dream". And: it's in three!
—Beth Orton, "Concrete Sky"
—REM, "You Are the Everything"
—Woody Guthrie/Wilco, "Airline to Heaven" I love the ecstatic energy of this. Here introduced by the former Junior Senator from Illinois.
—Joni Mitchell, "Lesson in Survival". Joni doesn't get any better than this. OK, except maybe on "A Case of You."
—Richard Buckner, "Blue and Wonder". I think this is hot.
—Bill Callahan/Smog, "To Be Of Use". "On the threshold of a coming day/ coming day/ coming day/ come".
—Townes Van Zandt, "Flyin' Shoes" Especially the opening line, "Days full of rain...", which feels like it's beginning in the middle of a phrase, bursting out from nowhere into instant poignancy.
—Tom Waits, "Downtown Train"
—Nina Simone, "Four Women" A live version that needs to be watched, not just listened to.
More music : The National, The Raincoats, Patty Griffin (!), Avengers, Gillian Welch, The National, Peter Mulvey, Ryan Adams despite his assholeness, Chrissie Hynde, Sandy Denny, Lucinda Williams, Talking Heads, Kathleen Edwards (she apparently quit music to open up a café outide of Ottawa), Martha Wainwright (but not her brother.)
For me, Scrawl has it all over Sleater-Kinney.
Alternate answer: Banksy.
Oh, and there's this.
PS: I just lost a tooth in an accident, so I will have a jack-o-lantern smile for the next 6 months or so.
...you're warmer than you are cool. (Not that you're not cool.)
...you think would challenge me, and that I might challenge you;
...and you want a revolution you can dance to. Or, as William Hurt said to Raul Julia in Kiss of the Spider Woman, "What kind of struggle is it that won't let you eat an avocado?"
(By the way, to read what Emma Goldman REALLY said, see Dances with Feminists. She also wrote, "I want freedom, the right to self-expression, everybody's right to beautiful, radiant things..." )
And we'll go out with a few wise words from Louis CK. Safe travels, everyone.