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Why the flower? Guess I just wanted something Sunday-morningish

Sunday morning.

Down in the kitchen for my tea and cereal. Wife and son upstairs in bed.

Poker tourney last night. Made final table and piled my chips in with a full house. Lost to larger full house. No shame or second guessing in that. Come to think of it, that’s a pretty good model to live a life by: NO SHAME OR SECOND GUESSING!

Anyway, as I said, it’s Sunday morning. Out the window a tattered sheet of cloud stretches across the sky. I open the laptop and take in a smattering of news, something of a morning ritual. Then watch a few video tutorials on presentation building in Keynote.

The plan is to liven up the Cafe with snappy slide shows. Include quotes from the spiritual giants, artworks and architecture from the ages to put them in context. Everything is about context.

Two quotes from an individual’s life: “Daddy, I need to go pee!” And: “Hey dad, mind if I borrow the car?” They’re not hard to contextualize, to imagine the age and motivation of the speaker. Similarly, a society expresses itself differently at differing stages of its life course. We cannot hope to truly comprehend ourselves, as humans, without grasping that overriding fact.

Uh oh, the family is down for breakfast. The day has begun.

Earlier, after the tutorials, I cracked open a book lying at my elbow, Henry Miller On Writing. The first sentence reads:

“Art teaches nothing, except the significance of life.”—Henry Miller, Wisdom Of The Heart


“The great work must inevitably be obscure, except to the very few, to those who like the author himself are initiated into the mysteries.”—Henry Miller, Wisdom Of The Heart

How is one to continue reading after those lines?

I sink into revery.

And emerge with a short post.

Happy Sunday morning!