Saturday, September 5, 2015

about conceptualities of literary living

Not yet getting to basic conceptualities here, rather “about” getting to that.
Desire of conceptual adventuring enrapts itself in thrills of The Literary.

So, this is really posted in the wrong venue (better there), but it’s got an aire of confession that belongs to the flow of a day, being a moment of pathmaking through an evolving field of cognitive literary studies.

I want to discuss J. A. Gosetti-Ferencei’s important discourse on mimesis,
but here and now I’m only rendering some problems that I bring to the scene.

Monday, September 15, 2014


Things happened (phenomenality of emergence)
between them (interpsychality). Determining what
was their mutual authoring, a found literarity,
intertextuality by reading each other—
a singular intrapsychality after all—
one’s reading of their trace, our reading,
as if they gain afterlife by gods’ listening,
the legacy of we who keep what happened alive—

Sunday, July 20, 2014

row, row, row your boat...

I had a fantasy of sequencing a bunch of PostSecret favorites like a story.

But it can't really work, because each card comes from such different lives.

Yet, like a dream where moments come out of unrelated parts of one's free-discharging brain and we wake up believing that the sequence has some meaning, I see a story. Despite the beginning, this has a happy ending. But, being made of others' postcards, you can't expect excellence of narrative continuity.

So it goes in life, too, likely: There are narratives and pretenses of continuity. But memory is like pointillism: Some altitude from fineness may disclose a topography, yet, often enough depending on imaginability.

This is about a woman who eventually secures her glorious freedom in the memory of her best friend.

Wednesday, February 15, 2012

all but forgotten

Violet on her wedding day, June 16, 1919.

She doesn’t seem enthused.

For the author recalling her life, “Curiosity rules,” says the reviewer of the author’s book, “roving where it will among assorted lives from his favored historical era. Let the stabilizing principle be the author himself.”

The author—a biographer—presently makes a fiction of real lives, including himself as pursuer, thereby made a character fictionalizing what can be known. But the reviewer finds less: “... this figure, with his already proclaimed ‘great reluctance’ to plunge into self-analysis, remains little more than a two-dimensional frontman, an amenable cipher.”

Sunday, October 30, 2011

status update: Flourishing well.

Wish you were here.

Since March, I’ve become enchanted with a sense of “psychality,” but April’s not “exactly psychoanalytic” didn’t get called psychalanalytic because I had Kaja Silverman’s book in mind. I’d now call April’s interest in “self expansiveness” psychal-enhancive.

I’m anticipating a sense of consilience as some kind of philosophy of mind. So, why not characterize the nature of the humanities as psychalenhancive? Though I haven’t yet read Kaja, her apparent sensibility is highly appealing. O, Jennifer, listen
: “…a profound and vital erotic investment by a human being in the cosmic surround….”

So Ana, why not be thereby “vulnerably candid” in conceptual sharing?

Friday, April 15, 2011

life, world, text

literary living (through a glass lightly)

Imaginative play of possibilities is intrinsically satisfying, in light of a legacy (background) of fulfillments through play. Enrichment of distinctions, enhancement of capability for making differences, leads to appreciation of frames in experience (given and made—enframing) and stances—toward anything: experience, frames. Instances of making a difference draw play (especially inwordly) into possible fruitfulness.

So I play.

Sunday, December 27, 2009