To hold the attention of a Sunday school class, my brother said, he once had to eat a piece of chalk. He never said what the lesson was about, just that the chalk was tasteless and thoroughly indigestible.
Watching a video of Borges giving a talk, I’m struck by the way he keeps smiling at something three feet above the heads of his audience. And how, seeing his smiles come and go, they smile too, pleased by their proximity to such a famous solitude which they are sure must be filled with light.
I’ve kept all the glass ashtrays from when I used to smoke, lovely as the stained glass of a church in which I can no longer kneel.
Long grass. I never smoked so don’t have the ashtrays, but I remember ashtrays and how the light was bent in the corners. I went to church and still see the beautiful windows. They were movie posters.
Not grass, for what it’s worth, but either a sedge or a rush of some kind. I didn’t take the time to try and i.d. it.
Lovely. A poetic reminder to always, always write those random thoughts down. Even placed together like this, they are wonderful. I keep trying to mash them together and find meaning in them as a whole.
Glad you like. If you do find an overall meaning, let me know. I swear I spent more time trying to come up with a title for the post last night than I did on the photos and text put together.
My desire to posess certain ashtrays outlasted my addiction to nicotine. I love your way of saying it!