The more peaceful first half of yesterday
After the sunrise but before the gunfire, there was walking for fresh-squeezed orange juice and then egg and cheese on a raisin bagel.
There was meandering and stopping to smell the historical signage.
There was reading my book in the gas station shade, waiting for my car inspection, three months late. Italo Calvino writing on exactitude.
There was watching a machine smoothly rip up road and spit it out.
There was returning home to renew my car registration — two months early, so we're even, Virginia — and getting lunch down hill at Piola. At the table, I began Calvino's next lecture, on visibility. It starts: "There is a line in Dante (Purgatorio XVII.25) that reads: 'Poi piovve dentro a l'alta fantasia' (Then rained down into the high fantasy…). I will start out this evening with an assertion: fantasy is a place where it rains." He then works into Ignatius Loyola's Spiritual Exercises. A great read.
August 11th, 2010 at 8:53 AM
[...] Previously, at the gas station: "Fantasy is a place where it rains." [...]