ways of writing

I see from writing this daily blog that there are different ways of writing.

The post I wrote as an S.O.S. two days ago was written in haste while traveling.

The post I wrote yesterday was written back in Mpls after eight hours of driving.

Last night's post could be edited.

I could rework it to be clearer, to communicate more literally what I was thinking about on my eight hour drive.

But I like these posts that are more like a sketch that only alludes to the actual punch line but maybe never actually says it.

I think poetry can be that way.

Maybe people like to just have things gestured to, a wave of the hand in the direction of what the speaker would like you to see.

A photograph where something is happening but we cannot say for sure....maybe people find these things to be tantalizing.

My youngest child, my son, has been on a train from Budapest to Belgrade these past twenty-four hours.

He is living the strange magic of travel right now.

Travel can be insulated by money so that the traveler is shuttled from one oasis of wealth to another, from one beautiful brunch to another beautiful dinner.

But travel can be raw and exposing and can make you see, really see what it's all about.

Nothing can be explained fully, no person's inner life can be laid plain.

Nothing can be fleshed out to full satisfaction.

The best food, the best sex, the best love, the best music, the best gardens, the best conversations, it all slips through our fingers like sand.

What do we really have?

What can be captured?

The hummingbird comes to the hanging baskets on the front porch every day now and I can barely get a glimpse of his beauty before he is gone.



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