“Measuring Life,” thoughts by Daniel Holland
How to Measure
Life is measured by a watch and a ruler.
By the way, what time is it?
How to Measure
Life is measured by a watch and a ruler.
By the way, what time is it?
What is fame to you? How would you know if you were famous? What would that do for you personally, if you were famous? What would it represent? Mean? How big an area would you have to be famous in to be satisfied? Does the itch to be famous ever stop, have boundaries, or just…
My sweetheart Daniel Holland in Northern California had a wonderful dream one night and was fortunate enough to remember it. This is an archtypal dream every performer, artist, and writer must know and face before putting work out in the world. –JRG In the dream I’m in the lion’s den with two lions. They are…
Here’s Daniel Holland’s fanciful description of his writing process.–JGR I’m good at getting the hooks and baiting the hooks. I’m frustrated though, once my line is in the water. I don’t yet know how to play the line so I can get the bites and catch the fish. There’s my line in the water, dangling,…
Walking Over Water Stick falls off oak tree in winter’s bare delight. Thin stick over deep water, chilled water. “Courage!” I say to my bare tingly toes.
When the blister wants to come out, there’s no stopping it. Walk too much–the blister can come out. Use your hands a lot–the blister will come out. “Me, Blister, I will travel.” Sit down a lot and see what happens. The end.
Why do we scratch our heads when we can’t figure something out? Are we simply buying time? Signalling that we are clueless? Or, do we think we’ll shake our brains a bit, and the information we are looking for will fall out?
Daniel, how should we measure life, do you think? If not by a watch and a ruler? If not by things that we can quantify, how should a person’s life be measured? I know you are poking fun at this way of looking at progress and achievement, but I’m curious about what you think.
Life is measured by some with watch and ruler…but by others it is measured perhaps by laughter, sunsets and ice cream cones.
Perhaps the best measure of life is losing track of measuring at all. Ya know, when you’re into whatever you’re into and hours have flown by with no watch or ruler needed.