First, an overdue apology for my gross inattention to these pages. I'll spare you the hoary bromide of the tree falling unattended in the forest and simply confess that like my beloved Brazil football team for a moment that seemed longer, my motivation dived. Confession is good for the soul, and reflection is good for the mind. On reflection, I recall what I've long held as a touchstone, viz., writing is not merely a means to present ideas but a catalyst to develop, organize, clarify, and even create them. In other words, it doesn't require an audience, as much as I might, after a year of labor, hope for one. Besides every thought ― written or not ― is contemplated by at least two minds. With that in mind then, once more into the breech! Comments as welcome as they are absent.
Friday, July 11, 2014
Once More into the Breech
First, an overdue apology for my gross inattention to these pages. I'll spare you the hoary bromide of the tree falling unattended in the forest and simply confess that like my beloved Brazil football team for a moment that seemed longer, my motivation dived. Confession is good for the soul, and reflection is good for the mind. On reflection, I recall what I've long held as a touchstone, viz., writing is not merely a means to present ideas but a catalyst to develop, organize, clarify, and even create them. In other words, it doesn't require an audience, as much as I might, after a year of labor, hope for one. Besides every thought ― written or not ― is contemplated by at least two minds. With that in mind then, once more into the breech! Comments as welcome as they are absent.
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