![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
In Memory of Tom Wiloch 1953-2008
The Now Is Fragile
There is no childhood, except in our memories, and
there is no super man, except in our dreams.
All is memory and imagination. We remember a past
now gone; we imagine a future we will never see.
The now is fragile.
We sit before a sheet of blank paper. We lift a pencil.
We charge this white pulp with meaning.
This poem is by Tom Wiloch, the person who trained me in my very first editorial job, taught me the value of using the Chicago Manual of Style judiciously, and was one of the two people to introduce me to Marvin's in West Bloomfield, MI. He passed away earlier this month, which I found out today from one of my editors who also previously worked with Tom. I didn't know until searching for his obituaries that he was such an accomplished writer.
The poem above I borrowed from an obituary written by Tom Ligotti's website. I hope neither Tom will mind.
There is no childhood, except in our memories, and
there is no super man, except in our dreams.
All is memory and imagination. We remember a past
now gone; we imagine a future we will never see.
The now is fragile.
We sit before a sheet of blank paper. We lift a pencil.
We charge this white pulp with meaning.
This poem is by Tom Wiloch, the person who trained me in my very first editorial job, taught me the value of using the Chicago Manual of Style judiciously, and was one of the two people to introduce me to Marvin's in West Bloomfield, MI. He passed away earlier this month, which I found out today from one of my editors who also previously worked with Tom. I didn't know until searching for his obituaries that he was such an accomplished writer.
The poem above I borrowed from an obituary written by Tom Ligotti's website. I hope neither Tom will mind.
no subject
That portion of the story reminded me of an experience I had, walking with three small children and an infant in a sling along the cliffs of Dorset. We got lost, the day was getting late--but no one fell off a cliff, thank goodness. We wandered inland; then the youngest of the ones who was walking needed a piggy back... and that was how we showed up at a cottage on National Trust land. The people living there kindly let the kids veg out in front of a TV while I phoned my mother-in-law, who came and rescued me.
The funny thing was, I doubt we walked more than five or six miles in all. Amazing how little it takes to have an adventure, especially on short legs.
no subject
I'm very glad I wasn't in a position to be responsible for young ones when we went--having two of us responsible for each other is much less stressful in my mind than being the one person responsible for several small ones!