by Tim Girvin | Jun 29, 2008 | Diary
What sense, am I? I am, what — sense? “Hornkostel cites a tribe that has a separate word for seeing, but employs a common term for hearing, tasting, smelling, and touching.” [A.G. Engstrom, “Philological Quarterly,” XXV, 1946] I wonder...
by Tim Girvin | Jun 9, 2008 | Diary
All night, there has been a running river of sound that flows beneath where I live out here. And in the morning, what of it, there is, a softening muffle, in sight, clings to the far shore, and slides in over the now quiet waters, the riverine murmur slows, and hangs...
by Tim Girvin | Jun 6, 2008 | Diary
Ancient wisdom recounted, savored and documented. Several years ago, I’d been traveling on AirFrance, and reviewed an article about the careful restoration of an extraordinary grouping of manuscripts. Beautiful. So beautiful, that back then, I’d added some...
by Tim Girvin | May 18, 2008 | Diary
I think about words all the time. It’s the crux of my thinking, where things cross. They bridge, they verge, they come back, they go forth. It’s where the light of my mind is held, that holding place of idea and imagination. Light in the crux, split in the...
by Tim Girvin | May 17, 2008 | Diary
Hearing Her Last night, I was thinking about her. And being in her presence that silent cast that she arrayed. Down to me, standing quiet. Alone, all one, with her. Gazing up, thinking of her. Remote, that presents a perfect orb of pearl, in love, that I am, with her,...
