My new semester officially begins in a few weeks. I have gathered the texts I need, more or less, except for one class which seems to be up in the air. It is the Creative Non-Fiction class, which is a new type of literature class developed in the past couple of decades to (some say) fill a niche. As a subject it has had a rough time of it, with traditionalists like my father pooh-poohing the aims and goals and so forth. Frankly I think there is a bitterness to the argument. Pity they didn’t think of it first. In any case, I don’t know what the readings are yet. I’ll call the instructor on Monday, when the holiday break is finally over.
I have to be careful with this class if I am going to benefit from it. I come from a long history of literary folk, most well known, and a long history of being surrounded by the arts. If I go in thinking that I know too much about anything, I will do poorly and destroy any chance to build an honest relationship with another human being. If, on the other hand, I maintain my humility, and even pretend that I have no idea what’s going on, I will probably remain open to the experience and gain a great deal from it.
I am back at the gym with a passion. In the past few months I had neglected my physical health and become soft around the middle, plus gaining a few pounds. My goal is to drop ten pounds and get my blood rates down or up, depending on what’s good. I have done this before, but I can be a slacker. Thankfully this is not a New Years Resolution, since I started back before Christmas. By the time I leave for the Balkans in May I should be in great shape. So it’s cardio, crunches, and some mild weight training for me 5 days a week.
The enclosed is a picture from a shoot I did at the Hudson Valley Psychiatric Center, a defunct loony bin near here. It is one of three pieces I am showing next week in New York at a group exhibit.
Johnnyboy
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