Photo of Stephen Kuusisto taken at Grinnell College, courtesy, Ralph Savarese
The appearance of an ersatz sign language interpreter at the memorial service for Nelson Mandela reminds me that able bodied people are fakers.
Who are you? Not the first question of philosophy. But the most important.
Old woman yesterday in bagel shop, admiring my dog. Her face a Britannica Encyclopedia of acquired pain.
A knock on the door. Oldest dramatic device. Second oldest—poisoned swords.
Its early and I’m drinking coffee. Typing fast. Still walking the basement of dreams.
Dreamt last night of a fine sailing ship. It was beautiful turning into the wind.
Many years ago I went into a repair shop in Helsinki—the old man who repaired typewriters was deaf. A friend said: “He’s good with machines.” But I saw he was good with what Jung called the psyche.
Good bye, Medieval God, you who rewarded goodness, punished evil. Sometimes I think I miss you. But then I read Tom Paine and I cheer right up.
Here come my dogs. Its time to go out into snow.
Here’s to the new Institute of Hope. I dreamt it last night.