To Norman,
by Douglas the Unknown
Oh, yes, buccaneers and buried gold! I remember that feeling of treasure hidden somewhere on an island and the longing, the overwhelming desire, for an adventure that would take me away from the mundane endlessness of life in my home. I remember Gordon Friesen and myself dreaming about having each a horse and riding south over the border and all the way down to Texas on it. We were fairly serious about it at the time, aged maybe fifteen, (actually studying maps and making lists of the food we’d need and clothes to bring), and that will have been just at that cusp of maturity where we were beginning to feel the power and possibilities of individual accomplishment. (Horseriding across America! How strange an (im)practicality. The impractical presenting as the practical! You had that real practicality much earlier, as the completion of the treasure Island sidearm indicates to me. And you had other accomplishments (small, sometimes, but real) such as the making of corncob pipes. Yes, I did make one myself with you, but I remember that it was your idea to go in the cornfield and find big cobs for the bowls. I don’t think I was overly assertive in my imagination and thus did not actually initiate or accomplish specific practical activities. I was more able to effect the visualization of dreams, daydreams, such as wending my way deep into some lonesome woods and building a log cabin where I would spend my time collecting and burning firewood, reading books, writing an odd love poem and, of course, making and drinking homemade wine. As far as practical accomplishments went I can’t remember any that I initiated. This is not a lament so much as an observation about how I existed. About the modalities of my (and your) existence.
by Douglas the Unknown
Oh, yes, buccaneers and buried gold! I remember that feeling of treasure hidden somewhere on an island and the longing, the overwhelming desire, for an adventure that would take me away from the mundane endlessness of life in my home. I remember Gordon Friesen and myself dreaming about having each a horse and riding south over the border and all the way down to Texas on it. We were fairly serious about it at the time, aged maybe fifteen, (actually studying maps and making lists of the food we’d need and clothes to bring), and that will have been just at that cusp of maturity where we were beginning to feel the power and possibilities of individual accomplishment. (Horseriding across America! How strange an (im)practicality. The impractical presenting as the practical! You had that real practicality much earlier, as the completion of the treasure Island sidearm indicates to me. And you had other accomplishments (small, sometimes, but real) such as the making of corncob pipes. Yes, I did make one myself with you, but I remember that it was your idea to go in the cornfield and find big cobs for the bowls. I don’t think I was overly assertive in my imagination and thus did not actually initiate or accomplish specific practical activities. I was more able to effect the visualization of dreams, daydreams, such as wending my way deep into some lonesome woods and building a log cabin where I would spend my time collecting and burning firewood, reading books, writing an odd love poem and, of course, making and drinking homemade wine. As far as practical accomplishments went I can’t remember any that I initiated. This is not a lament so much as an observation about how I existed. About the modalities of my (and your) existence.
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