tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-855802737317865685.post8823111774148278686..comments2024-02-24T15:58:56.712-08:00Comments on The Good Typist: Beauty Breathes, Day Four: The Perfectly Fine, Not So Bad, Really Sort of Okay DayKristen McHenryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03467256747399406710noreply@blogger.comBlogger2125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-855802737317865685.post-58021312945006746922010-09-23T21:36:56.305-07:002010-09-23T21:36:56.305-07:00Kristen, are you chewing slowly? Try that for a fe...Kristen, are you chewing slowly? Try that for a few days. I'm serious. I am realizing that I can tell a lot about my overall state by the pace of my chewing and my attitude toward eating. If I feel myself eating too quickly, I ask myself to slow down. It changes things; it makes things shift.Danahttp://mygorgeoussomewhere.orgnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-855802737317865685.post-1061192806928807112010-09-22T22:42:28.755-07:002010-09-22T22:42:28.755-07:00I am reading The Mind of the Mathematician by Fitz...I am reading <i>The Mind of the Mathematician</i> by Fitzgerald and James. In it, there is a brief discussion of "human calculators"—people who can instantly multiply two ten-digit numbers and similar feats. One such man, when probed about his abilities was quite exasperated. He said, "I just do it. Just as it seems natural to you to formulate a sentence without consulting the rules of grammar or tallying the meaning of each word, I calculate." <i>That's</i> flow. I know that the only thing that stops me from doing such things is me—I'm constantly interrupting myself.<br /><br />On the bus today, my pack was full from the many stores and libraries I had visited. As a result, I did not have a book out, because all the books were underneath ears of corn, a bottle of heavy cream, bagels, and such. So instead, I had a deck of cards out, and I was doing perfect faro shuffles, one after the other. Eight in a row returns the deck to its starting sequence. Other people bite their nails, I have nothing to explain!<br /><br />I thought about <i>Beauty Breathes</i> and I looked around. Everything on the bus looked worn, tattered, understandably forgotten—even, sadly for what it says of me, the people. And outside: depressed suburban commerce. Beauty was not breathing. In fact, this project was making me think the world was an awfully ugly place.<br /><br />Then I looked down at the cards, and the way they mechanically interlace from bottom to top. It reminded me of the hammers on a piano during a glissando. And I thought: that's very pretty.<br /><br />Pretty is nice.Frank Moraeshttp://www.franklycurious.comnoreply@blogger.com