Where angels dance

“Write only what you love, and love what you write,” Ray Bradbury wrote. What would be the point of writing words of hate, or words that don’t speak love, no, shout love? What would be the point of wasting any moment of life on the mean, the small, the spirit-breaking nastiness? Given a finite timeContinue reading “Where angels dance”

Here’s my something new for you today

Facebook, which has been acting extremely weird of late, does have a nice little feature called “Memories” that revisits posts you made on this date in history. The other day it reminded me that I once said: “Life is not a zero-sum enterprise. Every day billions of creative beings each make something that never existedContinue reading “Here’s my something new for you today”

Magic or product, and why the choice matters

I want to hear from the child again, the one who was talking to the inquisitor. Are they out there? Are they here? I can’t speak for the inquisitor, but of course the child isn’t here, in this room of books, because when last seen the child was running across a sunny field, laughing, running,Continue reading “Magic or product, and why the choice matters”

Reintroducing myself

(I found this Jan. 3, 2020, entry at the beginning of a journal. I’ll have to think what I would add after the ensuing 18 months.) Hi Warren. Remember me? It’s me — Warren. My favorite books — Nineteen Eighty-Four. Pretty much anything by Ray Bradbury but Dandelion Wine most of all. The Scarlet Letter,Continue reading “Reintroducing myself”