Sabbatical Request
Hey dude, I know you're 40 which is basically 80...so since you're retired and have a lot of time on your hands I wanted to see if you could write something for me to read while I'm gone on sabbatical?
I'm planning to be totally unplugged. No social media, text, email, or anything while I'm gone.
But I'm gonna miss my people, and you're definitely one of my people, so if you wanted to write a devotional, prayer, letter, or share a favorite song or passage or whatever you think I might like to read from you, let me know. You can email it back to me by Jan 20th so I can print it out before I go and I'll be sure to print it out and take it with me.
Thanks ahead of time!
Love you bro!
_______________________________________________________
Well currently as you know Tem and I broke up which means my mind is consumed with only thoughts about that, So I'm sorry I should have written things for you to read prior but who could have known. Well first off if you ever are in need of mindless ramblings of my inner thoughts to occupy yourself you're free to print off as many posts from my blog as you see fit. https://adamandchrist.blogspot.com/ I wish I had a secret book I was working on to share with you like you have or something of more substance. The simplest thing I could do is provide you with a reading list...so here it is:
"What are people for?" by Wendell Berry
"Cousin Bette" by Honoré de Balzac
"No impact man" by Colin Beavan
"The Luminaries" by Eleanor Catton
There is this quote I absolutely love in this book:
'Well,' said Staines, frowning slightly, 'that's very difficult to say—which to value higher. Honesty or loyalty. From a certain point of view one might say that honesty is a kind of loyalty—loyalty to the truth…though one would hardly call loyalty a kind of honesty! I suppose that when it came down to it—if I had to choose between being dishonest but loyal, or being disloyal but honest—I'd rather stand by my men, or by my country, or by my family, than by truth. So I suppose I'd say loyalty…I myself. But in others…in the case of others, I feel quite differently. I'd much prefer an honest friend to a friend who was merely loyal to me; and I'd much rather be loyal to an honest friend than to a sycophant. Let's say that my answer is conditional; in myself, I value loyalty; on others, honesty.
-Eleanor Catton, The Luminaries
I wrote about it back in 2016 https://adamandchrist.blogspot.com/2016/07/072416.html sometimes going back through old journal entries really makes you see what an idiot I am constantly repeating my mistakes cursed to run from the people I love only to be given the grace to be loved by another person and again continue the cycle.
"The Heart of Everything That Is: The Untold Story of Red Cloud, An American Legend" by Bob Drury and Tom Clavin
"Absolute truths" by Susan Howatch
And another quote I love from this book:
She touched the clay with a sensuous gesture which implied a satisfaction physical in its intensity, and not for the first time I thought how strange artists were. With their capacity to seal themselves away in a private world and retreat deep into a forest of mental forms which no ordinary person could penetrate, they seem almost inhuman as they slaved constantly to explore humanity. Harriet caressed her work like a mother; I suspected it would always mean more to her than any infant of flesh and blood, and that it was probably no accident that she was childless. Yet I felt that she must know more about the deepest emotions of maternity than some mothers, and I saw then that although she was obviously capable of profound passion, every ounce of it was so fond of Aysgarth. Any affectionate, amusing, intelligent male who made no time-wasting demands would be a highly prized acquaintance.
"I always wanted to do those hands of his," she said, "but I could never see the right way to present them. Then about a year ago they began to haunt me. I dreamed about them, thought of them night and day - until finally I saw how they had to be done."
"And after that did everything go smoothly?"
"Good God, no! Quite the reverse. Creation has to be the greatest pleasure in the universe, but it can be pretty damned harrowing when the work's in process."
"You never thought of giving up?"
"Don't be ridiculous! When things go wrong I don't chuck in the towel. I just slave harder than ever to make everything come right. Making everything come right, that's what it's all about. No matter how many disasters happen, no matter how many difficulties I encounter, I can't rest until I've brought order out of chaos and made everything come right. Of course I made a lot of mistakes. I turned down various blind alleys and had to rework everything to get back on course. But that's normal. You can't create without waste and mess and sheer undiluted slog - you can't create without pain. It's all part of the process. Its in the nature of things. You theologians talk a lot about creation, but as far as I can see none of you know the first damn thing about it. God didn't create the world in seven days and then sit back and say: 'Gee-whiz, that's great!' He created the first outlines of his project to end all projects and he said: 'Yes, that's got a lot of potential but how the hell do I realize it without making a first-class balls up?' And then the real hard work began.
"And still continues. Theologians don't believe God withdrew from the world after the first creation blast and forgot about it"
"Of course he couldn't forget! No creator can forget! If the blast-off's successful you're hooked, and once you're hooked you're inside the work as well as outside it, it's part of you, you're welded to it, you're enslaved, and that's why it's such bloody hell when things go adrift. But no matter how much the mess and distortion make you want to despair, you can't abandon the work because you're chained to the bloody thing, it's absolutely woven into your soul and you know you can never rest until you've brought truth out of all the distortion and beauty out of all the mess - but it's agony, agony, agony - while simultaneously being the most wonderful and rewarding experience in the world - and that's the creative process which so few people understand. It involves an indestructible sort of fidelity, an insane sort of hope, an indescribable sort of... well, it's love, isn't it? There's no other word for it. You love the work and you suffer with it and always - always - you're slaving away against all odds to make everything come right. Every step I take - every bit of the clay I ever touch - they're all there in the final work. If they hadn't happened, then this wouldn't exist. In fact they had to happen for the work to emerge as it is, So in the end every major disaster, every time error, every wrong turning, every fragment of discarded clay, all the blood, sweat and tears - everything has meaning. I give it meaning. I reuse, reshape, recast all that goes wrong so that in the end nothing is wasted and nothing is without significance and nothing ceases to be precious to me."
-Chapter 17 Section 2 Absolute Truths by Susan Howatch
I wrote a lot about this book as I read it in the winter of 2014. https://adamandchrist.blogspot.com/2014/01/011814.html I apologize in advance if some of my thoughts make you cringe. Understand that life is a growing process and most of that growth comes from mess. So my past (and present) thoughts are probably all messy.
"The Mind of the Maker" by Dorothy L. Sayers
"Just Food: Where Locavores Get It Wrong and How We Can Truly Eat Responsibly" by James E. McWilliams
This quote is from The Man in the High Castle, you can read it if you want but I really just like this quote so I hope you enjoy it.
...Getting up, he hurried into his study, returned at once with two cigarette lighters which he set down on the coffee table. "Look at these. Look the same, don't they? Well, listen. One has historicity in it." He grinned at her. "Pick them up. Go ahead. One's worth oh, maybe forty or fifty thousand dollars on the collectors' market."
The girl gingerly picked up the two lighters and examined them.
"Don't you feel it?" he kidded her, "The historicity?"
She said, "What is 'historicity'?"
"When a thing has history in it. Listen. One of these two Zippo lighters was in Franklin D. Roosevelt's pocket when he was assassinated. And one wasn't. One has historicity, a hell of a lot of it. As much as any object ever had. And one has nothing, Can you feel it?" He nudged her. "You can't. You can't tell which is which. There's no 'mystical plasmic presences,' no 'aura' around it."
"Gee," the girl said, awed. "Is that really true? That he had one of those on him that day?"
"Sure. And I know which it is. You see my point. It's all a big racket; they're playing it on themselves. I mean a gun goes through a famous battle, like the Meuse-Argonne, and it's the same as if it hadn't, unless you know. It's in here." He tapped his head. "In the mind, not the gun. I used to be a collector. In fact, that's how I got into this business. I collected stamps. Early British colonies."
The girl now stood at the window, her arms folded, gazing out at the lights of downtown San Francisco. "My mother and dad used to say we wouldn't have lost the war if he had lived," she said.
"Okay," Wyndam-Matson went on. "Now suppose say last year the Canadian Government or somebody, anybody, finds the plates from which some old stamp was printed. And the ink. And a supply of --"
"I don't believe either of those two lighters belonged to Franklin Roosevelt," the girl said.
Wyndam-Matson giggled. "That's my point! I'd have to prove it to you with some sort of document. A paper of authenticity. And so it's all a fake, a mass delusion. The paper proves its worth, not the object itself!"
As I said you're free to read my journal entries in my blog if for no other reason I usually put my favorite quotes in them and then try to process them. So If the only stimulating words you read from my journals are those from other author's pen I wouldn't be offended because they are great quotes.
I'm going to miss you on your trip and if I think of anything else to recommend or say I'll let you know.
Love,
Adam
Hey dude, I know you're 40 which is basically 80...so since you're retired and have a lot of time on your hands I wanted to see if you could write something for me to read while I'm gone on sabbatical?
I'm planning to be totally unplugged. No social media, text, email, or anything while I'm gone.
But I'm gonna miss my people, and you're definitely one of my people, so if you wanted to write a devotional, prayer, letter, or share a favorite song or passage or whatever you think I might like to read from you, let me know. You can email it back to me by Jan 20th so I can print it out before I go and I'll be sure to print it out and take it with me.
Thanks ahead of time!
Love you bro!
_______________________________________________________
Well currently as you know Tem and I broke up which means my mind is consumed with only thoughts about that, So I'm sorry I should have written things for you to read prior but who could have known. Well first off if you ever are in need of mindless ramblings of my inner thoughts to occupy yourself you're free to print off as many posts from my blog as you see fit. https://adamandchrist.blogspot.com/ I wish I had a secret book I was working on to share with you like you have or something of more substance. The simplest thing I could do is provide you with a reading list...so here it is:
"What are people for?" by Wendell Berry
"Cousin Bette" by Honoré de Balzac
"No impact man" by Colin Beavan
"The Luminaries" by Eleanor Catton
There is this quote I absolutely love in this book:
'Well,' said Staines, frowning slightly, 'that's very difficult to say—which to value higher. Honesty or loyalty. From a certain point of view one might say that honesty is a kind of loyalty—loyalty to the truth…though one would hardly call loyalty a kind of honesty! I suppose that when it came down to it—if I had to choose between being dishonest but loyal, or being disloyal but honest—I'd rather stand by my men, or by my country, or by my family, than by truth. So I suppose I'd say loyalty…I myself. But in others…in the case of others, I feel quite differently. I'd much prefer an honest friend to a friend who was merely loyal to me; and I'd much rather be loyal to an honest friend than to a sycophant. Let's say that my answer is conditional; in myself, I value loyalty; on others, honesty.
-Eleanor Catton, The Luminaries
I wrote about it back in 2016 https://adamandchrist.blogspot.com/2016/07/072416.html sometimes going back through old journal entries really makes you see what an idiot I am constantly repeating my mistakes cursed to run from the people I love only to be given the grace to be loved by another person and again continue the cycle.
"The Heart of Everything That Is: The Untold Story of Red Cloud, An American Legend" by Bob Drury and Tom Clavin
"Absolute truths" by Susan Howatch
And another quote I love from this book:
She touched the clay with a sensuous gesture which implied a satisfaction physical in its intensity, and not for the first time I thought how strange artists were. With their capacity to seal themselves away in a private world and retreat deep into a forest of mental forms which no ordinary person could penetrate, they seem almost inhuman as they slaved constantly to explore humanity. Harriet caressed her work like a mother; I suspected it would always mean more to her than any infant of flesh and blood, and that it was probably no accident that she was childless. Yet I felt that she must know more about the deepest emotions of maternity than some mothers, and I saw then that although she was obviously capable of profound passion, every ounce of it was so fond of Aysgarth. Any affectionate, amusing, intelligent male who made no time-wasting demands would be a highly prized acquaintance.
"I always wanted to do those hands of his," she said, "but I could never see the right way to present them. Then about a year ago they began to haunt me. I dreamed about them, thought of them night and day - until finally I saw how they had to be done."
"And after that did everything go smoothly?"
"Good God, no! Quite the reverse. Creation has to be the greatest pleasure in the universe, but it can be pretty damned harrowing when the work's in process."
"You never thought of giving up?"
"Don't be ridiculous! When things go wrong I don't chuck in the towel. I just slave harder than ever to make everything come right. Making everything come right, that's what it's all about. No matter how many disasters happen, no matter how many difficulties I encounter, I can't rest until I've brought order out of chaos and made everything come right. Of course I made a lot of mistakes. I turned down various blind alleys and had to rework everything to get back on course. But that's normal. You can't create without waste and mess and sheer undiluted slog - you can't create without pain. It's all part of the process. Its in the nature of things. You theologians talk a lot about creation, but as far as I can see none of you know the first damn thing about it. God didn't create the world in seven days and then sit back and say: 'Gee-whiz, that's great!' He created the first outlines of his project to end all projects and he said: 'Yes, that's got a lot of potential but how the hell do I realize it without making a first-class balls up?' And then the real hard work began.
"And still continues. Theologians don't believe God withdrew from the world after the first creation blast and forgot about it"
"Of course he couldn't forget! No creator can forget! If the blast-off's successful you're hooked, and once you're hooked you're inside the work as well as outside it, it's part of you, you're welded to it, you're enslaved, and that's why it's such bloody hell when things go adrift. But no matter how much the mess and distortion make you want to despair, you can't abandon the work because you're chained to the bloody thing, it's absolutely woven into your soul and you know you can never rest until you've brought truth out of all the distortion and beauty out of all the mess - but it's agony, agony, agony - while simultaneously being the most wonderful and rewarding experience in the world - and that's the creative process which so few people understand. It involves an indestructible sort of fidelity, an insane sort of hope, an indescribable sort of... well, it's love, isn't it? There's no other word for it. You love the work and you suffer with it and always - always - you're slaving away against all odds to make everything come right. Every step I take - every bit of the clay I ever touch - they're all there in the final work. If they hadn't happened, then this wouldn't exist. In fact they had to happen for the work to emerge as it is, So in the end every major disaster, every time error, every wrong turning, every fragment of discarded clay, all the blood, sweat and tears - everything has meaning. I give it meaning. I reuse, reshape, recast all that goes wrong so that in the end nothing is wasted and nothing is without significance and nothing ceases to be precious to me."
-Chapter 17 Section 2 Absolute Truths by Susan Howatch
I wrote a lot about this book as I read it in the winter of 2014. https://adamandchrist.blogspot.com/2014/01/011814.html I apologize in advance if some of my thoughts make you cringe. Understand that life is a growing process and most of that growth comes from mess. So my past (and present) thoughts are probably all messy.
"The Mind of the Maker" by Dorothy L. Sayers
"Just Food: Where Locavores Get It Wrong and How We Can Truly Eat Responsibly" by James E. McWilliams
This quote is from The Man in the High Castle, you can read it if you want but I really just like this quote so I hope you enjoy it.
...Getting up, he hurried into his study, returned at once with two cigarette lighters which he set down on the coffee table. "Look at these. Look the same, don't they? Well, listen. One has historicity in it." He grinned at her. "Pick them up. Go ahead. One's worth oh, maybe forty or fifty thousand dollars on the collectors' market."
The girl gingerly picked up the two lighters and examined them.
"Don't you feel it?" he kidded her, "The historicity?"
She said, "What is 'historicity'?"
"When a thing has history in it. Listen. One of these two Zippo lighters was in Franklin D. Roosevelt's pocket when he was assassinated. And one wasn't. One has historicity, a hell of a lot of it. As much as any object ever had. And one has nothing, Can you feel it?" He nudged her. "You can't. You can't tell which is which. There's no 'mystical plasmic presences,' no 'aura' around it."
"Gee," the girl said, awed. "Is that really true? That he had one of those on him that day?"
"Sure. And I know which it is. You see my point. It's all a big racket; they're playing it on themselves. I mean a gun goes through a famous battle, like the Meuse-Argonne, and it's the same as if it hadn't, unless you know. It's in here." He tapped his head. "In the mind, not the gun. I used to be a collector. In fact, that's how I got into this business. I collected stamps. Early British colonies."
The girl now stood at the window, her arms folded, gazing out at the lights of downtown San Francisco. "My mother and dad used to say we wouldn't have lost the war if he had lived," she said.
"Okay," Wyndam-Matson went on. "Now suppose say last year the Canadian Government or somebody, anybody, finds the plates from which some old stamp was printed. And the ink. And a supply of --"
"I don't believe either of those two lighters belonged to Franklin Roosevelt," the girl said.
Wyndam-Matson giggled. "That's my point! I'd have to prove it to you with some sort of document. A paper of authenticity. And so it's all a fake, a mass delusion. The paper proves its worth, not the object itself!"
As I said you're free to read my journal entries in my blog if for no other reason I usually put my favorite quotes in them and then try to process them. So If the only stimulating words you read from my journals are those from other author's pen I wouldn't be offended because they are great quotes.
I'm going to miss you on your trip and if I think of anything else to recommend or say I'll let you know.
Love,
Adam