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Ireland Part I: The Bookish Baddie Takes Dublin

On the most beautiful October day in Boston’s recorded history, Hannah and Michael got married. I read a poem at the ceremony and danced to Chappell Roan at the reception.

The day after (another stunning day), I walked up and down Boylston Street for about five hours, just shopping, browsing, and watching the sailboat race on one side of the bridge and the Head of the Charles on the other.

Then I went to the airport and caught my red-eye flight to Ireland.

“We are just complicated animals.”

Spent Friday night at the Met with a colleague-turned-confidante. We circled the rooftop and galleries discussing art, travel, Eastern religion, and matters of the heart.

Went to the September NY Writer’s Circle meetup and it was so vibey and I met the nicest people.

Live fast and buy day-of tickets to an outdoor Khruangbin concert in Forest Hills on the most beautiful Friday night in recorded history!

“Creation is what God does. Or what the universe does. Or whatever that is holy does. And when we participate in that, we are godlike and that how we transcend our humanity…It could just be creating a beautiful life that inspires other people.” — Anne Kadet

Sappho 31

“Sappho perceives desire by identifying it as a three-part structure. We may, in the traditional terminology of erotic theorizing, refer to this structure as a love triangle and we may be tempted, with post-Romantic asperity, to dismiss it as a ruse. But the ruse of the triangle is not a trivial mental maneuver. We see in it the radical constitution of desire. For, where eros is lack, its activation calls for three structural components—lover, beloved and that which comes between them. They are three points of transformation on a circuit of possible relationship, electrified by desire so that they touch not touching. Conjoined they are held apart. The third component plays a paradoxical role for it both connects and separates, marking that two are not one, irradiating the absence whose presence is demanded by eros. When the circuit-points connect, perception leaps. And something becomes visible, on the triangular path where volts are moving, that would not be visible without the three-part structure. The difference between what is and what could be is visible. The ideal is projected on a screen of the actual, in a kind of stereoscopy. The man sits like a god, the poet almost dies: two poles of response within the same desiring mind. Triangulation makes both present at once by a shift of distance, replacing erotic action with a ruse of heart and language. For in this dance the people do not move. Desire moves. Eros is a verb.” — Anne Carson, Eros the Bittersweet

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