Tuahir

the old man in Sleepwalking Land.  He says to Muidinga on p 65:  "Never trust a man who doesn't know how to lie."  A hyena then lies down next to them, most uncharacteristic behavior.

Moresco, I thought earlier, noticing my painting in the bedroom, of course, he is the Giorgio Morandi of post-Post Modernist Italian literature.  Is there a new slogan for his work?  wiki gives him this line "Defined as one of the founding fathers of a new line of Italian literature that moves beyond post-modernity, and then mentions DeLillo and Pynchon but no clear slogan.  

I listened to theta waves sleeping chimes with my earphones about 3 am this morning and enjoyed that, went back to sleep, up and down, through at least two selections.  

Bela ready to order a custom house at the Fairgrounds road colony called Mountain View, for down the line in the future perhaps.  Earlier morning coffee thoughts.  

Muidinga is 11, lost his memory.  The notebooks they found in the burned bus were written by Kindzu, who died in the wars.  Survival in devastation, words, names, on pages, carved into the bark of trees.  Divorce is a kind of micro civil war, the slow dying out of earlier passionate "mutual enthusiasm" ( Handke's phrase).  

Having the cruise on the horizon is a great distracting project; anticipation, preparation, packing, imagining.  Something to shift the mind onto away from the new sadness, the news we were most likely the last to have been apprised of, even as we could sense the tectonic under rumblings much longer ago than we wanted to feel.  

"that miraculous hairclip of hers . . .was the cat's paw."  154 Beginnings