Filling the minutes between interviews can be a pain. "Not enough time for one of my typical 10,000 blog posts," I tell myself, "but too much time for a simple trip to Mr. Coffee or my stash of apples." The story, a freelance piece on the now-former 2009 Seeley Lake races, is not as fulfilling a journalistic endeavor as I apparently need this wonderful Friday.
So I turn to the words of William Kittredge and his essay "Doors to Our House." A little research for an essay of my own. I stumble on a passage not quite suited to my present needs but one that nonetheless stirs the musings of a time-killing mind.
"So, out in our West, artists are trying to run their eyes clear of mythic and legendary cobwebs, and see straight to the actual. But sometimes you have to wonder about that. As a friend of mine says, 'I ask for truth, and what do I get? Candor.'"
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