January 6, 2018 by L.E. Hansen

Winter Notes

Plodding along here, just admiring the astonishingly gorgeous snow and winter cold. When no one is out, the sun is shining, and there are no footprints, it’s possible to glimpse portions of heaven around the corners of the eyes. It enters the self through the somethingness that lives alongside a body, a body that cannot contain all while containing everything. Proprioception then, or whispers, or ether. (Ether as in what the alchemists tried to distill from the air.)

Later, while indoors and playing a little Mozart, I came across this photo. It is Mozart’s Pianoforte. This is another of the white-winged dove mysteries. How is it that great works were created from such an instrument? Nothing is so astounding as hearing the music on modern instruments whilst looking at the tools of creation.

posted by Ludwig van Beethoven site

January 2, 2018 by L.E. Hansen

Oh God…

…another year. They just keep happening. (The Years)

Probably the most important news…dom…de…dom…dom…Dom! Yep. For real:

Dom Capers is out as Green Bay Packers defensive coordinator. According to Rob Demovsky of ESPN, the Packers have fired Capers after the team’s 35-11 loss to the Detroit Lions at to end the 2017 season. Demovsky also said there will be more changes on the defensive coaching staff. Oh, and the GM will be replaced also.

This is all rather like a Peaky Blinders war with the Italians. And, appearing in the staring role as Tommy: Aaron Rodgers!

And then, from 2017, the total and sum (Yes, I know) was pretty much captured in these cartoons from Philosophy Matters:

December 27, 2017 by L.E. Hansen

Fire

I set myself on fire again. It was quite a surprise…I’ve not done that in some time. The flames surprised me, showing up to the right and the left of the book held firmly in front of me. I thought at first it was a joke, something from the universe in a laughing poke at time held so light and fragile in the candle light. Red cinnamon it is, two wicks. the scent arriving at a time to mock dreams, to cancel the thoughts that should have surrounded it. The flames blazed up, the sky changed by the appearance, the motorcycle handlebars firm somehow within my hands, gripped as if they would open the doors of belief by being there. Quiet. Just before the panic and stamped out flames, the bargain also a surprise in the convergence of all the stories and all the thoughts and all of the encounters of passion. Death. Life, Silently put out, like the past that cannot be reached. I was there. I am there again. And it burns.