“I keep one calendar, though: one so singular and private I can’t know if everyone, or even anyone else, has one like it—though I suspect some must. It’s without dates; the occasions that fill it have no fixed number and don’t recur in any sort of chronological order. Each is a return of some long-ago circumstance in a kind of momentary entirety: the flavor, the taste, the total sensation of it; a past moment in the present. (1/3)
“Like the dropped mitten in the Ukrainian tale that is able to accommodate animals of all sizes seeking refuge in it from the cold, the ever-vanishing present is weirdly capacious—‘There’s always room for one more!’” – John Crowley
me: mookie wilson vs. mookie blaylock
also me: no, not versus, but working together
me: mookie plus mookie
also me: equals?
me: mookie plentitude
also me: or mookie multitudes
“Hallelujah Avenue and Amen Street were paved with gold so fine that you couldn’t drop a pea on them but what they rang like chimes. Hallelujah Avenue ran north and south across heaven, and was tuned to sound alto and bass. Amen Street ran east and west and was tuned to “treble” and tenor. These streets crossed each other right in front of the throne and made harmony all the time.” — Zora Neale Hurston