I am a creature of routine, as are we all - but me more than most.
It wasn't always this way. I remember leaving home for university some time in the last century and feeling a certain desperation to escape what I then regarded as the stifling confines of home. I no longer understand that young man.
Now away from home for one night, at a camp we're having in school for our drama guys, all my fasting month routines are shredded and the fast is twice, three times as difficult as it would normally be. Mind you, I'm enjoying the company of the young people at the camp and watching them relishing the new-ness of it all helps me understand my old self a little better.
Make it new! makes a nice slogan. If I'm not mistaken that old fascist and, on his day, wonderful poet Ezra Pound was churning that one out decades ago. But I prefer to stick to what I know, thanks, with just enough glimpses of the uncomfortably new to make me feel a bit younger. Or maybe just less old.
2 comments:
I remember being kicked out of my A-level classes and sent to the library. Each time it happened, I read more of the Cantos. I realised nobody else, except this old chap who had taught my parents, had ever borrowed them out. It gave me a sneaky thrill.
A bit spooky this. I too made a habit of reading Pound, in my case in Xaverian College's library as I toiled for my 'A' levels. Not that I remember much actual toiling. Goofing off aand reading Ezra's Selected Poems in a nice greeny-blue Faber paperback (I don't think I'd have coped with The Cantos back then) was the order of the day.
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