February 3rd, 2006

The Torment And Delight Of My Heart



Among my mother’s favorite operas was La Traviata, and she was especially enamored with the duet between Alfredo and Violetta in Act 1. When she played it, she closed her eyes and imagined being courted by a man like Alfredo, who was capable of the highest expression of romantic love.

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February 2, 1882






“The life of the artist, but particularly that of Joyce, differs from the lives of other persons in that its events are becoming artistic sources even as they command his present attention. Instead of allowing each day, pushed back by the next, to lapse into imprecise memory, he shapes again the experiences which have shaped him. He is at once the captive and the liberator. In turn the process of reshaping experience becomes a part of his life, another of its recurrent events like rising or sleeping…”

--Richard Ellmann

A belated happy birthday, my beloved distant cousin! I thought of you yesterday…