As Bach’s Concerto Filled the Sunlit Morning Chamber

John Locke Drawing/Collage

John Locke Drawing/Collage

Good poetry seems so simple and natural a thing that when we meet it we wonder that all men are not always poets.  Poetry is nothing but healthy speech.

Henry David Thoreau, Journal, November 29, 1841

Poetry is the opening and closing of a door, leaving those who look through to guess about what is seen during a moment.

Carl Sandburg

The early hours of the morning could not have been sweeter.  A few minutes after waking, I put on Bach’s harpsichord concertos and cranked up the volume, allowing them to fill up the chambers of my house while I showered, groomed, dressed, made breakfast, and then sat down to my work for the day.  A surprise visit from a couple of dear friends came later in the morning, and I realized it had been quite a long while since I was afforded such rich conversation (it seems I spend most of my hours lately commmuning with those creative spirits who published then left our earth centuries ago).  After lunch I divided my time between reclaiming one of my abandoned “junk rooms” (it is 90% complete now!) and continuing my work on this Logic course for the fall.  I am falling in love with John Locke who described logic as “the anatomy of thought.”  A few months ago (on my birthday to be exact), I came up with this notion that poetry was the discipline of language, and that I should devote more time to writing verse, composing songs, and distilling some of the ideas I have cultivated over a lifetime into smaller, more disciplined packages.  The study of logic is reinforcing that conviction, and I am finding a joy in mathematics that I never knew before (I loathed math in high school and college).  Currently, as I puzzle out the Aristotelian and Boolean squares of opposition, I am getting a kick out of analyzing categorical propositions for their truth values.  I know this all sounds dry, but it really isn’t–not to me at this moment, anyway.  It’s a whole new “Scene of Thought” to put it in Hume’s words.

I also love this “compost” idea that shows up in another Lockean quote that I put on today’s collage: “The great art to learn much is to undertake a little at a time.”  When I was a youth, I would sit in my pastor’s study, gaze across his massive library, and feel so ignorant, so under-educated.  I would often express to him in conversation that I wish I could possess a greater knowlege of the Bible.  He would merely smile and say, “Be patient.  It will come.  It just won’t come quickly.  Stay with it.”  Those words mean more to me now than they did at the time, but I still remember them, and am reminded of them now as I read pages from John Locke.  I was never a quick thinker, but a plodder.  Often I wish I could have picked up things more quickly, but I’m glad for what I’ve managed to acquire over the years.  And I’m still on that road, and loving every mile.

Thanks for reading.

I paint in order to remember.

I journal when I feel alone.

I blog to remind myself that I am not alone.

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