Author: Andrew Taggart
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On first words, last lines, and final thoughts
It was while lying in bed beneath the flowered sheets that I’d read to her the opening line of Mrs. Dalloway and we’d loved. “Mrs Dalloway said she would buy the flowers herself.” And it was while lying on the grass beside the northern spring lake that she’d read, less enthusiastically, the opening lines of To…
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A picture of a philosophical way of life followed by a medium-length rant
An anecdote: Yesterday, while strolling through the grocery store, I heard a young mother say the following to her young son: “Honey, you just have to be happy with the music they play for you. Bon Jovi’s OK.” — Human Anthropology 1. Human beings are thoroughgoing social animals. I.e., social life is ‘metaphysically prior’ to…
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‘Or some contrivance awkwardly suitable for the unpleasantly awkward occasion’
Sometimes it goes: once lips to cheek. Sometimes it goes: twice, back and forth, slowly or swiftly. Occasionally, it goes three times. The pressure is also important. So is the touch. Firm or light. Moist or dry. Cheek or air or half-both. As intimacy grows, the lips may get closer or the kisses, on cheeks,…
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The mystery of the pigeons, the tranquility of the birdsong
How many pigeons are there? I lose count every time. Each pigeon and every pigeon formation come, all come, as a surprise. I look and the formation has changed. Or I turn away, return, and–am I disappointed or reassured?–they have not changed. Or they have. My eye goes back to the places where they were,…
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At home with Joan
If it’s before 9 a.m. and the doorbell rings, I hurry down the stairs to get it. If it’s after 9, then I assume Joan is up and around, sitting in the kitchen, reading the New York Times as the light comes in through the front window. Upstairs in my treetop home, I loiter with my…
Andrew Taggart, Ph.D. 