I'm a terrible journaler, never been able to establish it as a practice. Maybe this whole 'book' is my latest and maybe final attempt at a 'journal'. I had to hide it while pointing at it.



I'm reading some Faulkner (As I Lay Dying). I may now be ready to give him a real go. How loopy things are. I've found an ally to help with Faulkner. I've been reading Édouard Glissant, mostly for his writing on Poetics of Relation. Looking at what other things he'd written I was surprised to find a critical volume "Faulkner, Mississippi." In there I read,


To point out and hide a secret or a bit of knowledge (that is, to postpone its discovery): that is a great part of Faulkner's project and the motif around which his work is organized.


 [and I'm realizing that in order to hide, a secret is necessarily pointed at––this flows from the bidirectional nature of movement] 


The body works a lot this way, that which is hidden always gives signification. Study Faulkner to become a better orthobionomer? Heed the hidden. Find the bulk of who you are in the erasure and the palimpsest. 


The vision is for Ongoingness; Life continuing on . . . .


Flaneur (Out for a Stroll)


  Richard Valasek           1308 Ala Kapuna St. Apt 103

         Honolulu HI 9681 

        +1 (808) 256-1646


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I am I and my circumstance;

and, if I do not save it, I do not save myself.                       —JOSÉ ORTEGA Y GASSET

Changing the Conversation

I was born. I am always a vessel for something other than myself. The self is only a

vehicle for Foreign matter which comes from elsewhere and is destined to go on

elsewhere without me, whether it's words, smells, vision                                                      ––EMANUELE COCCIA  Metamorphoses

The Story Teller

Now, more than ever . . . our place in the universe and the place of the universe in us, is proving to be one of active relationship. That is more than a scientist's credo. The separateness of our lives is a sham. Physics, mathematics, music, painting, my love for you, my work, the star-dust of my body, the spirit that impels it, my politics,  clocks diurnal, time perpetual, the roll, rough, tender, swamping, liberating, breathing, moving, thinking nature, human nature and the cosmos are patterned together.

      —JEANETTE WINTERSON                Gut Symmetries

What you do, what you become, is not my concern.                      ROBERT MCCALL



Yes, there is beauty

There is love

There is joy.

All you who suffer from

the world's miseries

Defend them.

                         ––EEVA KILPI


"Don't immanentize the eschaton."  

                     ––ERIC VOEGELIN

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