Monday, October 25, 2010

Tastes like Cloud

"The atmosphere is not a perfume—it has no taste of the distillation—it is odorless;
It is for my mouth forever—I am in love with it;
I will go to the bank by the wood, and become undisguised and naked;
I am mad for it to be in contact with me."

Whitman - "Song of Myself"

Sometimes I am just mad with the need to roll around on the forest floor, breathing in the intoxicating scent of crushed leaves.

I'm have been looking forward to teaching Romanticism all year. Emerson! Thoreau! Nature! Self-Reliance! An excuse to take my students outside for fresh air and tanning!

"Stop this day and night with me, and you shall possess the origin of all poems." This is just another way of saying, "For a good time, call...." :) A much better way of saying it.

-Walt again. Love that man.

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