exoskeletal

Nabokov's Despair is the only book I've ever experienced that makes me question if I've read it before. I seriously cannot remember if I've gone through it or not. I mean, I own it, it's on my shelf, a Vintage trade paperback. But the deja vu is so intriguing, so welcomed, so uncharacteristically unencumbered. I like all his works and indeed this novel is quite wonderful this time around? Yes, Whitman is coming close to wearing out his welcome. Not (entirely) because he's Whitman but because he's been on the literary platter, heapingly, for the last month straight. That doesn't seem like a lot of time, and it's really not, but researching something that I'm not entirely vested in is always difficult. The challenging part is linking it to my other interests, though, and after some cursory research today I am starting to come back around, as I always do. As for other academic related news: I picked up the physical copy of the new first-year writing textbook that features my photos on the cover. It looks great and my name is even on the copyright page. Looking at my rosters for next fall, I see that one of the students who appears on the back cover is enrolled in another of my classes. Day one icebreaker: check.

Mmm, photos. Aye, a horrible photo day today. Nothing that I took I liked at all, or came out, or accurately represented anything meaningful. Whatsoever. Including this shot (it's the lines, they are not parallel and the color is not even alluring in its blandness; but I think its mostly disjointed linearity). So, today is my 530th Blip in a row with no gaps. I wonder if I should concentrate more on profundity and self-discovery in my shots rather than adhering to the maintenance of some streak? Of course, as many of you will undoubtedly point out, it is often not about the photo at all and instead about the words. These words. So, in that case, the plethora (I hate that word but I am lazy now, so fucking lazy) of those may mean today's entry is a 'success.'