12 October 2010. Natasha Rostov, at that moment when Prince Andrei is leaving...
A silver bowl...
Lower me down with a golden chain, oh lower me down with a golden chain... Lower me down with a golden chain. Was poor Willie that got drownded in the deep blue sea...
* * *
Analect 2.794x
13 October 2010. The true hare. Or the untrue hare. Lines on paper... an open field...
One imagines the fur--bristly in the north of Scotland, or bursting across a weir on the "wide and lazy" Baltic shore. Peoples without kings, and without the hierarchies of kingdoms. Or even the desire for such hierarchies. Beuys. A pint of beer from local hops, or the meandering, democratic west-slavic verb. Autumn light, gathered hay, a forest clearing with mushrooms...
Grzyby, or some such...
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