Saturday, August 3, 2019

TT SAN MARCOS PLAN MEETING

Had recently gone by the Boarding House Store and glanced at the free books on the deck. Long ago in art school, I read Henry Miller, who always praised Whitman to the stars, but I never read Whitman. So why not? Maybe this was the time to read Whitman. And for free! I opened the book at random, and this drew my attention. It put me in mind of planning meetings where they whip out the charts and graphs that make me unaccountable tired and sick The San Marcos Plan meeting from a few weeks back was a case in point. I couldn't at least sit comfortably and draw; we had to stand up and walk around to look at the damned things on poster boards, with all that cold, hard writing. It was a huge relief to walk outside to the grounds and bask in the enchanted landscape surrounding the school on all sides.

OR

Had recently gone by the Boarding House Store and glanced at the free books on the deck. Long ago in art school, I read Henry Miller, who always praised Whitman to the stars, but I never read Whitman. So why not? Maybe this was the time to read Whitman. And for free! I opened the book at random, and this drew my attention. It put me in mind of planning meetings where they whip out the charts and graphs that make me unaccountable tired and sick The San Carlos Plan meeting from a few weeks back was a case in point. I couldn't at least sit comfortably and draw; we had to stand up and walk around to look at the damned things on poster boards, with all that cold, hard writing. It was a huge relief to walk outside to the grounds and look around at the enchanted landscape from which the school buildings were set back.


When I heard the learn’d astronomer,

When the proofs, the figures, were ranged in columns before me,
When I was shown the charts and diagrams, to add, divide, and measure them,

When I sitting heard the astronomer where he lectured with much applause in the lecture-room,

How soon unaccountable I became tired and sick,
Till rising and gliding out I wander’d off by myself,
In the mystical moist night-air, and from time to time,
Look’d up in perfect silence at the stars.

1865 Leaves of Grass

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