Graph the good phite

One of my friends likes to refer to my having a hypergraphic streak, and perhaps there’s something to such jovial jabs to tell me I have stumbled into a writer’s life. But assuredly not a real writer. The sort of writing I do at my profession must be factual and unambiguous. Journal writing is different, having no rules, no assigned audience, and without a set pace or context. It’s really quite liberating, and reflective writing can take on any theme- including the topic of reflective writing.

Be that as it may, one may be as the biblical clanging cymbal of insubstantial verbiage, or the pilgrimage and its narrative may be such that we “lose track of time.” Years back, during a spirit-breaking crisis, I took a few days’ leave of my job and life to journey to a monastery for a retreat. One of my colleagues sent me off with a small blank book, which I gratefully received while confessing that I had nothing to write and did not imagine myself to be a diary-keeping type. “You’ll have plenty to write, when you get there,” my friend said. But, truly, don’t we do what we do because we know we must? Much like the life of faith, there are explorations, then reinforcing nurture; there are observances and reflections- or, if we will, there is reading and there is writing.

LINK

[via Rhodia Drive]

Comments

[Chris Meisenzahl]

That's a great pic!

[Laura]

I agree. Awesome scene.

[Abraham]

Thank you!
These are from the rooftop terrace of the Boston Athenaeum Library, on Beacon Hill in downtown Boston. It's where you can see Ben Franklin's books, and where Thoreau and Emerson would study and journal.

There are a few other images of the place in my blog.

This one is an extra:

http://i95.photobucket.com/albums/l147/abraham188/BostAth1a.jpg