Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year, everybody. If I didn't look at a calendar, I wouldn't know the date, though, it's such an everyday feeling. Despite some of the snow drifting the other day, everything - even the mountain - is bare now.
There was a very cute show on TV last night where they had two groups of small children - one who believed in Santa and one who didn't. Then they debated the matter.
Tomorrow I leave for Osaka! Wish me luck.
Since I have nothing interesting to say, I give you music. Kinki Kids, Harmony of December. Appropriate, pretty:
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Whether I walk the streets of Manhattan,
or dart my sight over the roofs of houses toward the sky, or wade with naked feet along the beach just in the edge of the water, or stand under the trees in the woods, or talk by day day with any one I love, or sleep in bed at night with the one I love, or watch honey bees busy around the hives of a summer forenoon... or the wonderfulness of the sundown, or of stars shining so quiet and bright, or the exquisite dellicate thin curve of the new mooon in spring... what stranger miracles are there?
Love the earth and sun and animals, despise riches, give alms to everyone that asks, stand up for the stupid and crazy, devote your income and labor to others...and your very flesh shall be a great poem.
walt whitman, american poet.
Oh to have my life henceforth a poem of new joy!, To dance, clap hands, exult, shout, skip, leap, roll on, float on, to be a sailor of the world, bound for all ports, a ship itself, (see indeed these sails I spread to the sun and air,) a swift and swelling ship, full of rich words-full of joys. walt whitman
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