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life goes on

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  • louise
    Well, it s been rather quiet hereabouts for a night and a day, not that hereabouts seems to have any spatial reality beyond what agreement there may be,
    Message 1 of 4 , Apr 3, 2006
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      Well, it's been rather quiet hereabouts for a night and a day, not
      that 'hereabouts' seems to have any spatial reality beyond what
      agreement there may be, among existlist readers, to imagine
      another's experience, message by message. Perilous endeavour,
      anyway. Is that true of everything worthwhile? I think of fancy as
      somewhat voluntary, shaped, willed, by contrast with the divine
      spontaneity of imagination. Time is both destructive and creative:
      whatever compels, also destroys. Perhaps fancy by-passes
      compulsion, whereas imagination is entirely free. Occupying these
      thoughts subjectively, as I do, they are not abstract for me. I
      guess it really is not my responsibility, in the end, how they are
      received by other minds. Ethics demand of us the good motive, the
      willingness to be aware, to know what is germane to the argument, or
      to be willing to learn. In referring to 'us', I intend inclusion of
      any who are convinced by my limited statement here, of what
      responsibility requires. This is so very far from politics, the
      acme of compulsion, it seems. Like generalisation, the acme of
      danger. This cannot be England, rather a more mystical entity. I
      sense quicksand, that does not kill. Sinking rapidly, eager to
      discover what lies below the surface, I wave a rapid goodbye.

      louise
    • mariaprophetessa
      Well Louise, you re hereabouts, as am I. Found this particular grain of quicksand you might appreciate: ~I don t believe death is the final tenderness for
      Message 2 of 4 , Apr 3, 2006
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        Well Louise, you're hereabouts, as am I. Found this particular grain
        of quicksand you might appreciate:

        ~I don't believe death is the final tenderness for death confirms
        the wisdom of choices that seek to exalt solitude. I overheard an
        old lady tell her companion: "One of the unexpected delights of
        parenthood is the reversal of being put to bed by a child." I have
        asked many among you whether I am naive to believe love need not be
        solipsistic. The man I love replied, No. So I have come this far to
        discover the beauty within a cloud chamber: the traces of
        intersecting trajectories. For the man I love quoted Emerson as he
        held me tight: "The health of the eye always demands a horizon. We
        are never tired so long as we can see far enough." I believe the man
        I love was telling me: "Do not fear the distance between physical
        objects. Learn how detachment includes."~

        by Eileen R. Tabios
        "Beginning Lucidity"
        from "Reproductions of the Empty Flagpole"
        Marsh Hawk Press, New York 2002

        Mary


        --- In existlist@yahoogroups.com, "louise" <hecubatoher@...> wrote:
        >
        > Well, it's been rather quiet hereabouts for a night and a day, not
        > that 'hereabouts' seems to have any spatial reality beyond what
        > agreement there may be, among existlist readers, to imagine
        > another's experience, message by message. Perilous endeavour,
        > anyway. Is that true of everything worthwhile? I think of fancy
        as
        > somewhat voluntary, shaped, willed, by contrast with the divine
        > spontaneity of imagination. Time is both destructive and
        creative:
        > whatever compels, also destroys. Perhaps fancy by-passes
        > compulsion, whereas imagination is entirely free. Occupying these
        > thoughts subjectively, as I do, they are not abstract for me. I
        > guess it really is not my responsibility, in the end, how they are
        > received by other minds. Ethics demand of us the good motive, the
        > willingness to be aware, to know what is germane to the argument,
        or
        > to be willing to learn. In referring to 'us', I intend inclusion
        of
        > any who are convinced by my limited statement here, of what
        > responsibility requires. This is so very far from politics, the
        > acme of compulsion, it seems. Like generalisation, the acme of
        > danger. This cannot be England, rather a more mystical entity. I
        > sense quicksand, that does not kill. Sinking rapidly, eager to
        > discover what lies below the surface, I wave a rapid goodbye.
        >
        > louise
        >
      • louise
        Mary, you are far from recognising me. Unbored, uncivilised animal, seeking same. Likes debate, futuristic verse, practices primitive medicine and plays loud
        Message 3 of 4 , Apr 4, 2006
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          Mary, you are far from recognising me. Unbored, uncivilised animal,
          seeking same. Likes debate, futuristic verse, practices primitive
          medicine and plays loud music. The hasty think I'm just an
          adolescent. It is so sunny here. Cold, though. Patient Louise

          --- In existlist@yahoogroups.com, "mariaprophetessa"
          <mariaprophetessa@...> wrote:
          >
          > Well Louise, you're hereabouts, as am I. Found this particular
          grain
          > of quicksand you might appreciate:
          >
          > ~I don't believe death is the final tenderness for death confirms
          > the wisdom of choices that seek to exalt solitude. I overheard an
          > old lady tell her companion: "One of the unexpected delights of
          > parenthood is the reversal of being put to bed by a child." I have
          > asked many among you whether I am naive to believe love need not
          be
          > solipsistic. The man I love replied, No. So I have come this far
          to
          > discover the beauty within a cloud chamber: the traces of
          > intersecting trajectories. For the man I love quoted Emerson as he
          > held me tight: "The health of the eye always demands a horizon. We
          > are never tired so long as we can see far enough." I believe the
          man
          > I love was telling me: "Do not fear the distance between physical
          > objects. Learn how detachment includes."~
          >
          > by Eileen R. Tabios
          > "Beginning Lucidity"
          > from "Reproductions of the Empty Flagpole"
          > Marsh Hawk Press, New York 2002
          >
          > Mary
          >
          >
          > --- In existlist@yahoogroups.com, "louise" <hecubatoher@> wrote:
          > >
          > > Well, it's been rather quiet hereabouts for a night and a day,
          not
          > > that 'hereabouts' seems to have any spatial reality beyond what
          > > agreement there may be, among existlist readers, to imagine
          > > another's experience, message by message. Perilous endeavour,
          > > anyway. Is that true of everything worthwhile? I think of
          fancy
          > as
          > > somewhat voluntary, shaped, willed, by contrast with the divine
          > > spontaneity of imagination. Time is both destructive and
          > creative:
          > > whatever compels, also destroys. Perhaps fancy by-passes
          > > compulsion, whereas imagination is entirely free. Occupying
          these
          > > thoughts subjectively, as I do, they are not abstract for me. I
          > > guess it really is not my responsibility, in the end, how they
          are
          > > received by other minds. Ethics demand of us the good motive,
          the
          > > willingness to be aware, to know what is germane to the
          argument,
          > or
          > > to be willing to learn. In referring to 'us', I intend
          inclusion
          > of
          > > any who are convinced by my limited statement here, of what
          > > responsibility requires. This is so very far from politics, the
          > > acme of compulsion, it seems. Like generalisation, the acme of
          > > danger. This cannot be England, rather a more mystical entity.
          I
          > > sense quicksand, that does not kill. Sinking rapidly, eager to
          > > discover what lies below the surface, I wave a rapid goodbye.
          > >
          > > louise
          > >
          >
        • louise
          Whoops, sorry, spelling mistake. Verb form should read, practises . ... animal, ... confirms ... an ... have ... he ... We ... physical ... what ... divine
          Message 4 of 4 , Apr 4, 2006
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            Whoops, sorry, spelling mistake. Verb form should read, 'practises'.

            --- In existlist@yahoogroups.com, "louise" <hecubatoher@...> wrote:
            >
            > Mary, you are far from recognising me. Unbored, uncivilised
            animal,
            > seeking same. Likes debate, futuristic verse, practices primitive
            > medicine and plays loud music. The hasty think I'm just an
            > adolescent. It is so sunny here. Cold, though. Patient Louise
            >
            > --- In existlist@yahoogroups.com, "mariaprophetessa"
            > <mariaprophetessa@> wrote:
            > >
            > > Well Louise, you're hereabouts, as am I. Found this particular
            > grain
            > > of quicksand you might appreciate:
            > >
            > > ~I don't believe death is the final tenderness for death
            confirms
            > > the wisdom of choices that seek to exalt solitude. I overheard
            an
            > > old lady tell her companion: "One of the unexpected delights of
            > > parenthood is the reversal of being put to bed by a child." I
            have
            > > asked many among you whether I am naive to believe love need not
            > be
            > > solipsistic. The man I love replied, No. So I have come this far
            > to
            > > discover the beauty within a cloud chamber: the traces of
            > > intersecting trajectories. For the man I love quoted Emerson as
            he
            > > held me tight: "The health of the eye always demands a horizon.
            We
            > > are never tired so long as we can see far enough." I believe the
            > man
            > > I love was telling me: "Do not fear the distance between
            physical
            > > objects. Learn how detachment includes."~
            > >
            > > by Eileen R. Tabios
            > > "Beginning Lucidity"
            > > from "Reproductions of the Empty Flagpole"
            > > Marsh Hawk Press, New York 2002
            > >
            > > Mary
            > >
            > >
            > > --- In existlist@yahoogroups.com, "louise" <hecubatoher@> wrote:
            > > >
            > > > Well, it's been rather quiet hereabouts for a night and a day,
            > not
            > > > that 'hereabouts' seems to have any spatial reality beyond
            what
            > > > agreement there may be, among existlist readers, to imagine
            > > > another's experience, message by message. Perilous endeavour,
            > > > anyway. Is that true of everything worthwhile? I think of
            > fancy
            > > as
            > > > somewhat voluntary, shaped, willed, by contrast with the
            divine
            > > > spontaneity of imagination. Time is both destructive and
            > > creative:
            > > > whatever compels, also destroys. Perhaps fancy by-passes
            > > > compulsion, whereas imagination is entirely free. Occupying
            > these
            > > > thoughts subjectively, as I do, they are not abstract for me.
            I
            > > > guess it really is not my responsibility, in the end, how they
            > are
            > > > received by other minds. Ethics demand of us the good motive,
            > the
            > > > willingness to be aware, to know what is germane to the
            > argument,
            > > or
            > > > to be willing to learn. In referring to 'us', I intend
            > inclusion
            > > of
            > > > any who are convinced by my limited statement here, of what
            > > > responsibility requires. This is so very far from politics,
            the
            > > > acme of compulsion, it seems. Like generalisation, the acme
            of
            > > > danger. This cannot be England, rather a more mystical
            entity.
            > I
            > > > sense quicksand, that does not kill. Sinking rapidly, eager
            to
            > > > discover what lies below the surface, I wave a rapid goodbye.
            > > >
            > > > louise
            > > >
            > >
            >
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