Author: paulattinello
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The Song of Nachiketas
“At last his father turned on him in anger. ‘Enough!’ he said. ‘Why should I give you to God? I’d rather hand you over to Death!’ As a dutiful son, Nachiketas took him at his word, and set out at once for the House of Death.” – The Katha Upanishad, translated by Thomas Byrom I.…
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Birds of Dawn
A beautiful track by Stephan Micus, from his 2002 album Towards the Wind: shimmering, cracked-crystal kalimba accompaniments, with some kind of shawm-like instrument in the foreground. Although I’m sitting on the couch, vaguely wishing I could sit around or snooze and skip today’s meetings and working luncheons, this is cheering – sinuous beauty, moving forms,…
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Flash of bitterness
While running around today – office, meeting, shopping, home – several things, pleasant and un-, came into my head to write about; but instead – just one small thing: those New Zealand tourism commercials are running again, with their seductive jingles, beautiful landscapes, and happy families (especially the amazingly hunky, athletic dads with their shirts…
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Luxuries
A bit sleepy/groggy tonight, don’t know why. Too much sugar, perhaps?… Brought back from Spain: turrón, several kinds – egg yolk and sugar, which I love (and which I was told doesn’t last, so I bought only one); almond paste and crushed almonds; and chocolate with almonds. Didn’t bother with the wafer and egg whites…
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Reality
My eldest sister is in the hospital for an operation… it unfortunately brings up some worry; she is always cool and offhand about serious things (she is, in fact, always the unflappably dependable one, the smart one, the one who raises no fuss – typical eldest child in that context). But of course the rest…
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[untitled]
Ravel glides through my fingers into air. My touch is shaky, robe falling loose, aches span my ribs, so tired. Not tired of thinking of you: dark, broad chords spin out past the lamp’s circle. Conjuring you into the room behind me: would you turn away if I made a mistake, would you leave the…
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On reflection
The formal articulation of so much mental garbage does tend to leave me thinking I’m being rather silly. I mean, you’d think that at my age I would remember that the best solution to being unproductive/unfulfilled/unexcited is just to get on with it. A dream this morning, clearly grown from my concerns of the past…
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Persona
Last Tuesday, I was in a pub with a colleague from another university, and was eventually joined by a circle of friends from my own university (most of whom have blogs, by the way). We had fun, I was rather giddy (saying some tacky things, but I have friends all over the world who are…
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Brief Encounter
A bit startled, and disappointed, by the film Brief Encounter (1945). The original one-act play (Still Life, from Coward’s Tonight at 8:30) is so utterly wonderful – melodrama perhaps, but such spare, precisely written melodrama, where every character is completely outlined with just a few deft strokes, and the whole story progresses so delicately and…
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Old Songs
[Los Angeles, 1991] Late again, and the woman at the desk is pleasant about it, but I will lose time from my appointment. The tanning salon is an increasingly important convenience for me, it clears up, however temporarily, the waves of red lesions across my arms and torso. And I look rather dashing with a…
Paul Attinello 