2004-09-01 - 7:52 a.m. Last night I dreamt I was giving a talk at a Zen center, and the talk made a certain amount of poetic sense. The theme of the talk was "I am a Tree...I am Not a Tree." The talk, which was just me saying a line and then the audience repeating after me, went thus: "I am a tree, I blossom and grow from dirt, I am not a tree, I am the ineffable mystery of the universe." I have never heard the word "indefatigable" spoken aloud. I suspect no one has ever said it. I have a Carino family tradition to uphold...you may remember me posting this around the same time last year. September Song Maxwell Anderson/Kurt Weill For, it's a long, long while From May to December. But the days grow short, When you reach September. And the autumn weather Turns the leaves to gray One hasn't got time For the waiting game. And the days dwindle down To a precious few September, November And these few precious days I spend with you. These precious days I spend with you. �1938 thoughts? (17 comments so far) previous - next blog archive contact