the eccentric intuition of the moment serves to create like the bent curve of a carving knife serves to swerve from the straight slice of roast beef a perversity, rather, grounded in unexplained defense against unacknowledged bitternesses, not the simple imp of perversity to laugh at the sudden fall which didn’t hurt anyone, the laugh hurting more than the inadvertant mistake, the inadverttant laugh hurting more than the stubbed toe or the spilt milk for some reason, not meaning to hurt at all but rather a release of tension, and esthetic burp praising the world of natural accident, the marvel that everything is not yet totally strung together, under thumb, lock & key, rule & order, praising by recognition the charm of reality, the hex of things taken too much for granted not enough appreciated, the errs which make us human depend more than we like to realize on the inefficiencies of the material & the perceptual on the beauty of chance & accident of forgetfulness or inattention, the human defined with such brevity with such finesse, by the dropped pen the lost page, the left keys the broken nail, the wrong turn, etc.
12 March 1977