Every day I see a man with no legs, in a wheelchair, sitting at one of the computers. He is scanning in pages of a book. I have no idea why, or what book. I have seen him in the elevator too. He seems nice enough, but we haven't really talked.
A lot of work has been done recently on the Adaptive Technologies room, but I don't see him in there, and I'm not sure if he really needs it. He seems fine doing his thing, whatever his thing is.
I wonder what his story is. Who is he? What is he scanning? Is he a student, a writer, or a researcher? I don't even know his name.
Thursday, April 15, 2010
So I read some stories and poetry by Wendell Barry in one of his books. At first I was looking too closely at the words. "This doesn't rhyme" I said. "How can this be poetry?" I asked. Then I let go, and just read. Pictures formed in my mind. I've never been to Fort Royal, Kentucky but I could see it in my mind. This is poetry, this is good stuff, this is better than the junk I write. This is beautiful. I have more to read I know, but it's a good start.