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This Blog's Focus, or lack there of

Edith Wharton said "There are two ways of spreading light ...To be the candle, or the mirror that reflects it." That's what this blog is about, how the light of other people and the world around me have reflected off and in me. . .or other things when I need to write about other things, like walking, lizards, or fruit. There will be pictures of plants. All pictures are taken by me, unless noted.

I say what's on my mind, when it's there, and try to only upload posts that won't hurt or offend readers. However, readers may feel hurt or offended despite my good intentions. Blog-reading is a matter of free choice, that's what I have come to love about it, so if you are not pleased, surf on and/or leave a comment. I welcome any and all kind-hearted commentary.

It's 2012 and my current obsessions are writing and walking, sometimes at the same time. And books. I'm increasingly fascinated by how ebooks are transforming the physical book, forcing it to do more than provide printed words on a page.

Monday, July 26, 2010

A Breezy Ramble

When Frederick Law Olmsted and Calvert Vaux designed Central Park, they created a section called the Ramble, a hilly woodland with meandering footpaths meant to allow park visitors to escape the hustle and bustle of city life and let their feet and minds wander. Olmsted believed in the restorative powers of nature and the importance of mental escape. In contrast to the Promenade, the  razor straight road in the park designed for social intercourse that was chock-a-block with benches and given ample width for carriages, the Ramble paths were designed to wander through a thicket of trees that masked views to the city. The Ramble was designed for walking. Walking in a particular way, a way Henry David Thoreau, who said "It is a great art to saunter." would have endorsed. Or Jules Renard, the French writer who noted that in walking "the body advances, while the mind flutters around it like a bird."

Rambling has purpose.

I want to yell this at the editor for whom I was, until last night, revising a piece of writing. If I were reading the emergency instructions for what to do if my child accidentally wrote on his eyeball with a Sharpie, I would want it written like the Promenade, straight and to the point. (FYI, a long saline rinse and time seems to do the trick). But if I wanted to escape from the toils of my days, be transported away from my own world, I may take a ramble. I delight in following the mental paths of other writers, through the wooded thickets of their own design, seeing how they sculpt the views, revealing glimpses of the world I may not have noticed otherwise.

He said I should remove my "too-breezy" voice and  the "ramble through [my] own stories, places of youthful discovery," and replace it with more clear and backed up historical reference. More mile markers, less unmarked forks in the path. He wants a promenade. I gave him a ramble. The choice: stay on the meandering path I created or blaze a straight line through, so the journey from point A to point B is clear. Hmm, I wonder where this foot was going? I don't care, I just want to follow it.





 

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