Gone. Sent. Wrapped up…
The DVD for Stern is on the plane to Hamburg. The DVD for the Magnum Paris office via Hamburg is on that same plane. The CD for the Wall Street Journal is on the FEDEX plane to Hong Kong.
I’m all set and ready for more: tomorrow there is a ceremony to commemorate the assassination of union leader CHEA Vichea 4 years ago…
john:
love this pic…(love the red hotel room too)…it reminds me of one of my favorite poems by Seamus Heaney….about flighting kites (gliders and kites, same, no?)
)…who is this man? here is the poem:
A Kite for Michael and Christopher
All through that Sunday afternoon
a kite flew above Sunday,
a tightened drumhead, an armful of blown chaff.
I’d seen it grey and slippy in the making,
I’d tapped it when it dried out white and stiff,
I’d tied the bows of newspaper
along its six-foot tail.
But now it was far up like a small black lark
and now it dragged as if the bellied string
were a wet rope hauled upon
to lift a shoal.
My friend says that the human soul
is about the weight of a snipe,
yet the soul at anchor there,
the string that sags and ascends,
weigh like a furrow assumed into the heavens.
Before the kite plunges down into the wood
and this line goes useless
take in your two hands, boys, and feel
the strumming, rooted, long-tailed pull of grief.
You were born fit for it.
Stand in here in front of me
and take the strain.
Bob Black - January 22nd, 2008 at 4:54 am