We not only stand on the shoulders of giants but also work alongside them, destroying and collaborating, guided and guiding. And how can I act to make these days memorable, if not in my mind, then in my bones, in all that follows?

“poetry is the displacement of silence, while prose is the continuation of noise.” Similarly, a poem doesn’t need to tell you the details of what a moment looked like, but it can find ways to show you what it felt like.

Yes, we give feedback and encouragement and suggestions, but we also bond over our art, letting each other in on the oft-solitary process of figuring out our thoughts and our stories. We push each other, teach each other, and ultimately shape each other and our work. A page to remind everyone what art is — love from many sources, shaped by an individual, to be shared. You release your belief that everything has to do with you and that you are in complete control. This is not a passive act. It involves working in favor of things that you surrender to and accepting that the results of your actions are not in your control. Dropbox mirror: https://www.dropbox.com/s/cwujmj6y3ezn6lu/ripple01.pdf?dl=0

I doubt I even know what really matters to me anymore, so I can just hope to venture back into the world again with wide eyes.

This past week, when I wrote my latest newsletter, the rut had been filled, and the words flowed out of me like the days that taught me how to love writing. There’s that Rilke quote, “if your everyday life seems poor, don’t blame it; blame yourself; admit to yourself that you are not enough of a poet to call forth its riches.” When I read it recently, it felt accusatory, but with time, I realized that I’d lost some sense of curiosity, the wow-have-you-seen-this-shit-this-is-so-cool lens that fuels all good art.

I found my best friend in pieces: the sense of humor from the disco producer, the philosophical banter from the Twitter friend, the emotional support from the diamond maker. I found that all of the qualities I wanted in a best friend didn’t have to come from a single person.

With these newsletters and most things I write, I don’t know where I’m going — I generally start with an idea or an experience and explore from there.

I considered that for a minute, then tentatively asked, “Which wolf will win?” Sparks danced towards the stars as the old man stared into the glare of the flames and replied, “Whichever one you feed.” I’ve been feeding the wrong wolf. Without a clear intention to feed the right wolf, I’ve been letting envy and greed and these negative emotions fester.

Quiz bowl, like any good hobby, was something to center a community around and that community brought knowledge and fun to so many people.