Some memories are so sharp and visceral, they cannot be forgotten and therefore don't need recording. And years later, perhaps decades, when the details have fogged over, the core of that day will be revealed. Immediately after the moment, it is still bleeding on the ice.
If you'll allow a digression to get to a point: one of the binaries, so to speak, in Romantic poets and writers was extreme individualism on the one hand -- poetry that was all about emotion and Self -- but then at other times an escape from individualism -- the poet striving to be a vessel, an Aeolian Harp played by the wind, an instrument of Nature with no Self. Now, I love the Romantics, but really with them it's either one or the other. Damon's writing, while steeped in individuals and frequently located in the most undeveloped and naturalized settings on the planet, isn't interested in that. You can tell he's not writing about himself, even if he's "in" there as the narrator. Because as the narrator he's still very much one of his own characters. And he's not creating some kind "Sublime" erasure of Self in the face of Nature. What I get out of much of his writing, this piece being an example, is a different focus. You can tell that the work is about these people. It is focused on them, even when it's them and himself included. I feel like I'm reading an archive more than anything, a testimony to things that otherwise won't be noticed or remembered, but are the essence of who we are.
I am so glad I just now caught and read your comment, Steven Zani. This is so interesting. It tangos with the ideas and cross-sections I find tantalizing. "You can tell he's not writing about himself, even if he's 'in' there as a narrator." My sense of that comes from working in the film industry. Sure thing, Damon's work feels as if he's the cinematographer, responsible for so many fields of stimuli that inspire the characterization. The seat of visualization apart from all other sources of direction with a concentration on covering the whole picture, sensorially and sensibly. Sure, not the self-concentrated pov as "the self" has come to mean something egregious. When did image become the singular device of our perception? It's a good question. A tool in good hands. Delivering emotions from the position of 'traveling.' A term used in film for a character in motion. A more encouraging perspective than the director's for the less strung out view. I appreciate the digression. Thanks for setting it in writing.
Yes, a lovely read, wandering mind, assisting in a new experience for Mila. In ways the writing feels very open and in others spiritually guarded. It is the mystery that takes hold. Pokhara Valley and the lake are unforgettable. Your memory so clear of the women washing clothes. Thank you. I hear the slap, too, of heavy strikes of wet cloth on the rocks. I can bring to life easily the trek from there to Jomson and back where starting out we passed a elderly couple from Brooklyn coming down the path, their calves and white bobby socks drenced with blood from leeches they had tired from removing. "I've been there and back. I've been there and back," the man hollered, the echo from a what felt like miles away before, shaking a fist at the sky, he and his wife both in shorts and t-shirts appeared from behind a sharp hill. The caravan of donkeys hauling soon after. In the background Annapurna. And then the sheer thrill of distant Everest, "Goddess of the Sky." Still vital in my mind, those two, alive inside me from 1971. Like your writing, Damon. I've was blessed with the strength to take such journeys. And feel blessed to read and hear your voice. And understand the loneliness. Always so far away and near. Constance
Constance, you are generous with your thoughts and observations. Thank you for sharing them, not just with me but with the others, hopefully, who will read your comment. You are obviously someone who treats the world and your own memories with care. "The caravan of donkeys hauling soon after"--a beautiful reflection, and I can see those worlds opening again from what is becoming my long ago. Thank you.
Damon, I wrote you a lengthy, kind of personal reply, and pressed send, but cannot tell if you received it, because it appears to have preferred outer space than allowing me to see it on the site. Pouf! Alas, my replay explained that I got a lot of Karen Horney’s work, my go-to for self-understanding and an essentially cohesive sense of community and growth. Our purpose to share in order to thrive. “Neurosis and Human Growth, the Struggle Toward Self-Realization” is the book of hers I found most helpful. Her clarity and ability to make a profound sense of life and humanity engaged my husband, too, who is a professor of the arts in the MFA department of a university. I made a point in the reply about men being more hard on themselves than they know. Married for close to fifty years and still going. So I think I know something about men and their struggles and Karen Horney is not for everyone, but boy is she clear and brilliant. C.
Damon, I had a tough time psychologically from child abuse, so I devoted my life to understanding and working through. For that I have always read a huge amount on psychology, cognitive therapy, and honestly, classical literature. As for mindfulness, my go-to girl for psychology is Karen Horney who taught at the New School for years and had views on how the pride system works to disturb our sense of agency (a newer word than she used in her theories, but same meaning.) She explained how because of early anxiety due to conflicts with childhood individuation, we humans either move towards, away, or against in our approach to mastery. The first singling out love and affection as the coping drive; the away gaining distance to quell the neediness, obviously, and I interpret a bit of eccentricity in that move (not bad), and the toward being aggression, where superiority and narcissism and the craving for power undermine growth and self-awareness. The idea is to move in any direction at will or in some form to move the self in all directions through choice and a sense of well-being and humanity, community, and constructive growth, not as an ideal, but as a good struggle based on self-knowledge and sharing. Such is the crux of civil society. She writes in a straight forward manner, but brilliantly, I think. "Neurosis and Human Growth, the Struggle Toward Self-Realization" was the most significant of her works I have read. An interesting woman and psychiatrist, she was feisty but very pragmatic. Just what I needed. And her writing is succinct. My husband who is a graduate school of the arts professor also sank his teeth into her work because of her writing ability and clarity. Otherwise, maybe because of her work, and other philosophers, I am more comfortable in this imperfect world than I ever dreamed of being. Anxiety accepted, things faced with courage, etc. I think you know how to live and be, Damon. You're kind of magical. Men, I have found, are way more hard on themselves than they know. Depression is a predator. Very hard but not impossible to slap around. I know just how interesting and inquisitive you are and how much your work and choices mean to us all who appreciate your contribution to Juke and obviously many other endeavors, including caring for your family, through your artful writing and discipline that are essential to how you move around your life. I get this because You are a prize writer whether you get a ribbon on not. All best, Constance
a lovely read this early morning.
Some memories are so sharp and visceral, they cannot be forgotten and therefore don't need recording. And years later, perhaps decades, when the details have fogged over, the core of that day will be revealed. Immediately after the moment, it is still bleeding on the ice.
Absolutely, Sue. We are lucky for those experiences.
If you'll allow a digression to get to a point: one of the binaries, so to speak, in Romantic poets and writers was extreme individualism on the one hand -- poetry that was all about emotion and Self -- but then at other times an escape from individualism -- the poet striving to be a vessel, an Aeolian Harp played by the wind, an instrument of Nature with no Self. Now, I love the Romantics, but really with them it's either one or the other. Damon's writing, while steeped in individuals and frequently located in the most undeveloped and naturalized settings on the planet, isn't interested in that. You can tell he's not writing about himself, even if he's "in" there as the narrator. Because as the narrator he's still very much one of his own characters. And he's not creating some kind "Sublime" erasure of Self in the face of Nature. What I get out of much of his writing, this piece being an example, is a different focus. You can tell that the work is about these people. It is focused on them, even when it's them and himself included. I feel like I'm reading an archive more than anything, a testimony to things that otherwise won't be noticed or remembered, but are the essence of who we are.
I am so glad I just now caught and read your comment, Steven Zani. This is so interesting. It tangos with the ideas and cross-sections I find tantalizing. "You can tell he's not writing about himself, even if he's 'in' there as a narrator." My sense of that comes from working in the film industry. Sure thing, Damon's work feels as if he's the cinematographer, responsible for so many fields of stimuli that inspire the characterization. The seat of visualization apart from all other sources of direction with a concentration on covering the whole picture, sensorially and sensibly. Sure, not the self-concentrated pov as "the self" has come to mean something egregious. When did image become the singular device of our perception? It's a good question. A tool in good hands. Delivering emotions from the position of 'traveling.' A term used in film for a character in motion. A more encouraging perspective than the director's for the less strung out view. I appreciate the digression. Thanks for setting it in writing.
Yes, a lovely read, wandering mind, assisting in a new experience for Mila. In ways the writing feels very open and in others spiritually guarded. It is the mystery that takes hold. Pokhara Valley and the lake are unforgettable. Your memory so clear of the women washing clothes. Thank you. I hear the slap, too, of heavy strikes of wet cloth on the rocks. I can bring to life easily the trek from there to Jomson and back where starting out we passed a elderly couple from Brooklyn coming down the path, their calves and white bobby socks drenced with blood from leeches they had tired from removing. "I've been there and back. I've been there and back," the man hollered, the echo from a what felt like miles away before, shaking a fist at the sky, he and his wife both in shorts and t-shirts appeared from behind a sharp hill. The caravan of donkeys hauling soon after. In the background Annapurna. And then the sheer thrill of distant Everest, "Goddess of the Sky." Still vital in my mind, those two, alive inside me from 1971. Like your writing, Damon. I've was blessed with the strength to take such journeys. And feel blessed to read and hear your voice. And understand the loneliness. Always so far away and near. Constance
Constance, you are generous with your thoughts and observations. Thank you for sharing them, not just with me but with the others, hopefully, who will read your comment. You are obviously someone who treats the world and your own memories with care. "The caravan of donkeys hauling soon after"--a beautiful reflection, and I can see those worlds opening again from what is becoming my long ago. Thank you.
You are so kind. Literature is precious and life-saving. I do treasure your work, Damon.
Yes. Literature gives life. And I am curious--is there a book or a read that you return to for nourishment?
Damon, I wrote you a lengthy, kind of personal reply, and pressed send, but cannot tell if you received it, because it appears to have preferred outer space than allowing me to see it on the site. Pouf! Alas, my replay explained that I got a lot of Karen Horney’s work, my go-to for self-understanding and an essentially cohesive sense of community and growth. Our purpose to share in order to thrive. “Neurosis and Human Growth, the Struggle Toward Self-Realization” is the book of hers I found most helpful. Her clarity and ability to make a profound sense of life and humanity engaged my husband, too, who is a professor of the arts in the MFA department of a university. I made a point in the reply about men being more hard on themselves than they know. Married for close to fifty years and still going. So I think I know something about men and their struggles and Karen Horney is not for everyone, but boy is she clear and brilliant. C.
Damon, I had a tough time psychologically from child abuse, so I devoted my life to understanding and working through. For that I have always read a huge amount on psychology, cognitive therapy, and honestly, classical literature. As for mindfulness, my go-to girl for psychology is Karen Horney who taught at the New School for years and had views on how the pride system works to disturb our sense of agency (a newer word than she used in her theories, but same meaning.) She explained how because of early anxiety due to conflicts with childhood individuation, we humans either move towards, away, or against in our approach to mastery. The first singling out love and affection as the coping drive; the away gaining distance to quell the neediness, obviously, and I interpret a bit of eccentricity in that move (not bad), and the toward being aggression, where superiority and narcissism and the craving for power undermine growth and self-awareness. The idea is to move in any direction at will or in some form to move the self in all directions through choice and a sense of well-being and humanity, community, and constructive growth, not as an ideal, but as a good struggle based on self-knowledge and sharing. Such is the crux of civil society. She writes in a straight forward manner, but brilliantly, I think. "Neurosis and Human Growth, the Struggle Toward Self-Realization" was the most significant of her works I have read. An interesting woman and psychiatrist, she was feisty but very pragmatic. Just what I needed. And her writing is succinct. My husband who is a graduate school of the arts professor also sank his teeth into her work because of her writing ability and clarity. Otherwise, maybe because of her work, and other philosophers, I am more comfortable in this imperfect world than I ever dreamed of being. Anxiety accepted, things faced with courage, etc. I think you know how to live and be, Damon. You're kind of magical. Men, I have found, are way more hard on themselves than they know. Depression is a predator. Very hard but not impossible to slap around. I know just how interesting and inquisitive you are and how much your work and choices mean to us all who appreciate your contribution to Juke and obviously many other endeavors, including caring for your family, through your artful writing and discipline that are essential to how you move around your life. I get this because You are a prize writer whether you get a ribbon on not. All best, Constance
Great stuff, Damon. Truly.
Thank you, John. A nod from you means a lot to me.