It would take lifetimes to do all I want to do. I’m just finishing a new online class; the stack of books to read grows; the list of books and essays I dream of someday writing grows; there are so many publications to which I’d like to subscribe and have the time to read. Multiple careers still intrigue me. Life is so exciting in this way. I worry I’ll never get it all in—and I won’t. Nevertheless, it makes me happy that I think this about life. Watching the news can be so horribly depressing, but then I look at the stacks of books and think of the host of ideas represented, consider emails from friends about what they’re up to and interested in, and enthusiasm wells inside me. With all that we’re told is going wrong in the world, is that enthusiasm based on escapism or naiveté or could it be an awareness of an alternate reality, one in which truth, beauty and goodness, faith, hope and love are alive and well, a reality that the news correspondents aren’t paid to report on, that the viewing public would find of little interest, that doesn’t influence the course of history—or does it

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[Photo: taken several years ago at an exhibit at the American Swedish Institute - sorry it's not too sharp. I don't know who Hilma Berglund is but I'm sure we're kindred spirits.]