I’ve run out of steam on this for the time being.
6.1.21
“It was a bad thing for me that I regarded my scanty intellectual attainments as a substitute for a regular trade. It lay at the root of so many of my wrong ideas and evil actions.” Cesar Pavese (trans. A.E. Murch),
—“Wedding Trip,” in Jhumpa Lahiri, ed., The Penguin Book of Italian Short Stories, 138
Up 8:30. Felt a lot better - cold symptoms seem to have gone. Read a little Ginzburg before I got up.
Coffee, breakfast.
Worked for an hour. Need to find Lee Hays biography to check on “zipper songs.”
Joined the harmony lesson late (had the wrong time); went through a couple of my exercises, got a short précis of what comes next in the book, since we’re taking a break.
Did some cleaning w/ Bree, since we’re expecting visitors. Mopped the kitchen and bathroom floors. Put on Hassan Ibn Ali, Metaphysics - quite good, tough quartet jazz w/ v. original heads by the pianist, an elusive Philly figure who made one record, also of his own compositions, w/ Max Roach but was otherwise undocumented, until this lost album turned up. Will listen more.
Went to Stand Alone Cheese to get some snacks to take to Laura’s. Funnily enough, they were playing Jerry Lee Lewis’s “Let’s Talk About Us” (Otis Blackwell), which we’ve played, when we walked in.
Came back, showered, cleaned up the bathroom more. Read the story quoted above, and Lahiri’s intro to the anthology.
Put on disc one of the Julius Hemphill box set and waited for Mark and Christina. Read 2 Ashbery poems.
They showed up around 6:15, brought in the keyboard, chatted until Laura said we could come up. Walked over there, hung out in their garden (unmasked, all vaccinated) until a neighbor came out at 9:30. Really pleasant, and Christina was able to give Bree some advice about finding a composer.
Got back a little after 10, went outside for a short walk, found the wine had hit me hard, drank some water before bed. Read a few p. of Dogen.’ve run out of steam for this for the time being.
5.31.21
As I gazed at the quiet rubble, one thing
Puzzled me: What had happened, and why?
One minute we were up to our necks in rebelliousness,
And the next, peace had subdued the ranks of hellishness.”
—John Ashbery, “A Worldly Country,” A Worldly Country, 1.
Up 9; was out of bed a couple times during the night.
Went to Caffe Bene, sat outside, read a bit of Ginzburg, 2 more Ashbery poems, two essays on Bruce Nauman.
Wrote 3 p. In notebook, sort of about MoMa.
Most of the day was taken up with laundry (we hadn’t done it in weeks). I don’t think details are necessary.
Also called my dad.
Read a Pirandello story in the Italian anthology. Updated the monthly finances. If I did anything more of interest in the evening, I’ve forgotten it. Quite tired much of the day, and also felt like I might be catching cold. In bed near 10, a little Ginzburg and a few pages of Dogen.
5.30.21
If my siblings and I were to find ourselves in a day cave or among millions of people, just one of those phrases or words owl immediately allow us to recognize each other. Those phrases are our latin, the dictionary of our past, they’re like Egyptian or Assyro-Babylonian hieroglyphics, evidences e of a vital core that has ceased to exist but that lives on in its texts saved from the fury of the waters, the corrosion of time. Those phrases are the basis of our family unity and will persist as long as we are in the world, re-created and revived in disparate places on the earth whenever one of us says, “most eminent Signor Lipmann,” and we immediately here my father’s impatient voice ringing in our ears: “Enough of that story! I’ve heard it far too many times already!”
—Natalia Ginzberg, Farmily Lexicon, trans. Jenny McPhee, 31
Up 8.
Breakfast/coffee.
Read a story by Fabrizio Ramondino. Listened to a BBC podcast for the 100th anniversary of the Tractacus, from earlier this month.
Went to MoMa to see Reconstructions, a show of Black architectural projects (roughly). Two of particular interest from my L.A. perspective: J. Yolanda Daniels: black city, The Los Angeles Edition, and David Hartt, On Exactitude in Science (Watts), with a narration by Charles Burnett. And Tomeka Reid did the soundtrack. Looked around some other galleries, watched most of a curious video installation by Wu Tsang, we hold where study, titled from a Moten/Harvey essay, which he reads from; his two kids are in it. Read a fair bit of Natalia Ginzburg, Family Lexicon, on the train.
Glad I went, but it’s a crummy rainy day - not really workable to sit anywhere and read/write.
Was famished on the way home, ate (inside, first time) at a Brazilian buffet. Tired when I got back around 3.
Listened to the rest of Dylan’s album; watched Sarah Friedland, Drills (a short) on Mubi.
Read first couple poems in John Ashbery, A Worldly Country. More Ginzburg in bed, lights out around 11.
5.29.21
To Beauvior’s surprise, Fanon proved to have a personal horror of violence. Although he justified the use of violence both on the public platform and in print, he was obviously deeply distressed when he spoke of the violence inflicted by the Belgians in the Congo and the Portuguese in Angola. More surprisingly, he displayed the same emotion when he spoke of the ‘counter-violence’ of the colonized and of the settling of scores that had taken place within the FLN: he could not forgive himself for Abane Ramdane’s death and hinted that he was in some sense responsible for it. He thought, however, that hisi personal dislike of violence was a failing that reflected his position as ‘an intellectual.’
—David Macey, Frantz Fanon, 461.
Up at 7. Read Sharp, Listened to half of Dylan Hicks, Accidental Birds.
Breakfast/coffee.
Finished A Man Vanishes. Closed a lot of tabs, read various items. Ordered a few books and records I had in shopping carts. Cleared the decks basically for the end of the month, except for a couple of bandcamp items.
What I really did today though, was finish the Sharp novel and the last 50 or so pages of the Fanon bio. Also a story by Lalla Romana from the Italian anthology. (Finished the Dierdre Kovac book last night.)
Tried to go out at one point, but it’s still cold and rainy: June Gloom, as they say.
Played a little piano and guitar in the evening - can sorta play “Wolves, Lower” now.
Short walk outside. Went to bed not long after 10, read a few pages of Natalia Ginzburg on tablet.