Playing piano is one of the main reasons I am surviving the pandemic. If we recognize (and if you don’t, I have some news for you) that the mind is part of the body, and so emotional health is physical health, then it shouldn’t be surprising that within a few weeks of the lockdown (so……
Tag: Adam
London Letter #5: “Somewhere Beyond the Sea”
Yeah. I’m not in London anymore. I’m not even in England anymore. But I’m still writing these because there are aspects of my trip I look back on, even at the remove of only a few days, with a warm sense of delight and tranquility and joy. And there are parts I am haunted by….
Real Isn’t How You Were Made, It’s Something That Happens to You
The other night, while I was trying to get some writing done, and really struggling, and had gone through all of my usual techniques for getting my head into the right place, I took a break, and stuck this little note to my keyboard. I’ve talked a lot about not being a “real writer.” I’ve…
London Letters #4: “That Serene and Blessed Mood”
This was to be my final letter; the one in which I told you what it’s like for me, as a scholar of 16th and 17th century English literature, to visit Stratford-on-Avon, the birthplace of Shakespeare. I hardly mentioned Shakespeare in my dissertation; but my connection with his writing goes back to childhood. Being able…
London Letters #3: “The Rain it Raineth Everyday”
I decided to call this one “London Letters,” even though I’m not in London anymore, because “Shropshire Letters” doesn’t alliterate. “English Countryside Letters” has a nice ring but oh well. We had to give up Anuja’s apartment in Camden Town on Sunday, and, rather than move to a different part of the city, we decided…
I’m Going to Use the R-Word (& it’s okay if you do, too)
On an October night, twenty seven years ago, I was attacked.On an October night, twenty seven years ago, I was victimized.On an October night, twenty seven years ago, I was sexually assaulted.On an October night, twenty seven years ago, I was raped. It’s all the same night. It’s all the same thing, isn’t it? Even…
London Letters #2: “O for a Muse of Fire”
Yesterday I walked past Shakespeare’s Globe Theater. It was intense. Just walking past it. I’ve been in London now for over a week. I’ve seen a bunch of the tourist things you’re supposed to see, and not seen others. I saw the treasures of the Sutton Hoo excavation at the British Museum. I saw all…
London Letters #1: I’m Having a Great Trip
It is strange being in the city that, for over three hundred years, was the navel of the world… And not really caring. I arrived in London on October 1. Why I’m here has nothing to do with the Globe Theater or the tailors on Savile Row. Or the scones. Grief Tourism My fiancee had…
Wrong Tent: A Story of the Boy Scouts
It was a weekend camping trip with the Boy Scouts. Yes, I was a Boy Scout for a couple of years. The autumn leaves were fresh and crisp—mostly oak with some maple and ash and some other shapes besides. Sitting on the ground, we were all staring intently at some curious bit of nature while…
Sticking Your Nose in a Book
Do you think books mind when we read them? Here they are carrying on with their lives, being beautiful or terrible according to how they were written, and we come along and literally stick our noses into their business. There are some people—scholars, philosophers, authors—who treat books as if they were alive. I once attended…