Karl here. Ben asked me to fill in for him on the blog while he's away climbing Mount Blanco. I'll try, but I must admit that my heart isn't in it. And I should, I suppose, try to explain why.
The point of Every Day Counted was that normally, we don't count the days - we leave it to history and calendars to do that for us. In the beginning of this odyssey, Ben and I wanted to bring that sense of workaday historicity to the fore, to say that somehow, to someone, every day mattered - that the day, itself full of endless possibilities, needs to be counted, not for itself (Time is a dead concept after all) but for its many living, hopeful participants, and their fascinating projects.
I guess that seems more true some days than others. My newest theory is that days count when one is hatching an idea, and days get submerged when one is merely doing it. The doing of the idea is the middle passage between the innocence of inspiration and the embarrasing burden of actualization.
(to be continued...)
No comments:
Post a Comment