Tonight I feel like the Loch Ness Monster. After almost two months of blogging inactivity, I emerge from a series of never-ending workdays, business trips, weekend travels, and sweet, brief moments of laziness to write this entry. No less than a few months ago, I was crafting daily missives that captured the world around me. These days, though, I have trouble getting a three-word reply out of my email inbox at the office. Something has to give. So tonight, as I lay myself down to sleep, I pause and pen a few words to remind myself that the world at large beckons beyond the myopia that surrounds my settling into a new lifestyle of obligations and relationships and so-called adulthood. Somewhere out there lurks another life and another being that captures the imagination and elevates the spirit beyond the here and now. Somewhere out there lurks the person I want to be outside of the office in a settled life that expands on the day-to-day responsibilities. Somewhere out there lurks the Loch Ness Monster that I might someday become - and I give myself a few minutes this evening for a sighting.
Somehow I started to read Proust. The blame goes to Alain de Botton , a writer whose witticisms deconstruct modern thinking and make intellectualism seem but a trifle and a whim. He wrote a book in 1997 called "How Proust Can Change Your Life" which distills the enigmatic French novelist into a self-help dispenser of pithy ideas. How clever I found Mr. de Botton to be when I dipped my toe into the vagaries of Proust; I picked up volume one of "In Search of Lost Time" and instantly fell into the deep end. What author dares to run sentences onward into the stratosphere that sometimes seemingly mellows behind the stars of a bright night, but never so much as an introspective person that wretches for the meaning of a simple thought, sometimes stumbling, but always emerging strongly as that same night in starry sky, almost an homage back to Van Gogh, whose rich paintings greatly represented the mood of a generation - and generations often afford a few mis-steps in l...
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