8.14.2011

The Gibbous August



Today I pet a kitten on the sidewalk. I'm in the process of reading Dostoyevsky's Brothers Karamazov and have an Alyosha-eye out for simple and profound moments of beauty in the course of my day. I am worn thin today and need all the beauty I can get a hold of or that can get a hold of me.
PictureNumi keeps bringing me his Kong and a tennis ball stuffed in his mouth. What do you want, dog?! I'll admit it: you're cute, you're ambitious and dexterous! Ok, now he's on the couch, sprawled out across 75% of it. Any moment now he's bound to fall asleep, snore monstrously, and twitch in a squirrel-chase dream.
Jessica and I painted a bookshelf this afternoon and all the displaced books are towered around the piano in disjunct towers of familiar and comforting titles. Sometimes you can feel intimidated by all your books, especially if there are some which you haven't had the chance to read yet. Right now I can't care though. There's plenty of life left forWheelock's LatinThe Complete Stories of Flannery O'Connor, and 1001 Ways to be Romantic. As I said I'm in the middle of Brothers Karamazov. It's going a lot faster than I would expect of a 950 page романIt astounds me for its complexity and depth and dynamic drive and derailments. Very musical. I'm also reading a children's picture book from the library called Царевна-Лагушка (The Princess Frog). I'm at that point in my understanding of the Russian language where I am still having trouble distinguishing parts of speech from each other. Is that a verb or a noun or some sort of particle? Makes for very difficult and time consuming reading. I've got to remember this time last year in German. Eventually you can figure out not only if it is a noun, but that it's plural, and it's some sort of animal, an animal that flies. Imperceptible change.
I'm currently listening to string quartet music by Ciurlionis as an alternative to Soviet realism. My paper on 1930s preludes is coming along well, and I've almost tracked down Goltz. I've also become intrigued by Erik Chisholm, the Scottish Bartok who had correspondence with Prokofiev and visited Shostakovich in Russia. Hopefully more about that later.

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