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December 14, 2009

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Hey, don't feel bad - I don't have a book yet, either. :)

Answers to the questions, Dear Jessica-
1) I'm Jewish. There are tons of doubts. I'd have to start my own blog, for that.
2)No, I wouldn't sleep on a stranger's couch. Too creepy. I know some people in Houston but that's closer to Austin. You can come to Dallas, and stay with us! :)
Let me think about other people who may live in the Hill Country...

Dear Jess,

Happy travels. Let's brunch when you return...

To your questions:

1) As they say in Latin: "Dubito, ergo sum." Confidence is great, but doubt is devine.

2) I've slept in more places than I care to remember. Which is why I don't. Remember, that is.

Love ya!

Good post...I can certainly relate. Are you familiar with Otis Books/Seismicity Editions, might be worth a look.

http://www.otis.edu/academics/graduate_writing/seismicity.html

I often doubt myself (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Impostor_syndrome); I have had some really great experiences and met some awesome people with couchsurfing. You can look me up on the cs page.

Ever since taking my first multiple-choice exam I've been filled with doubt about nearly everything. (Probably before then, but that's when it really kicks in.) I wouldn't sleep on a strangers couch. Two little words: bed bugs.

what is more beautiful than doubt?
Multiplicity/.

What is more terrifying than a strange couch?
Being the stranger.

What is more unhappy: a couch, a stranger,a
doubt? A doubt.

I've doubted the sound of my own voice.

Is that what I really sound like?

I've doubted every line, the lapse in reason from whence it came, and writing it down, and having written it: doubt: before, during, after.

I've doubted body, heart and mind. I've doubted the burr caught on my sleeve calling itself love. I've doubted that loud quickening lub-dub pretending to sound like love.

I am rarely patient. I will try this next time.

Also: strangers are what I've never doubted.

I'm loving these! And thanks, Amy A., for the suggestion!

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I left it
on when I
left the house
for the pleasure
of coming back
ten hours later
to the greatness
of Teddy Wilson
"After You've Gone"
on the piano
in the corner
of the bedroom
as I enter
in the dark
                   

from New and Selected Poems by David Lehman


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