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For some reason, the last month or so has been filled with unpleasant interruptions in the flow of my relations to the object world. Again and again, things that were functioning normally have broken down without warning. The cars, the computers, the washing machine: I shudder to think what's going to "disfunction" next. And it's not just technology. Glasses have been breaking with unusual frequency. Today I found the cashmere sweater I got Skylar last winter rendered useless by huge holes, most likely torn by a certain cat's teeth. And yet, for all of that, I don't feel particularly fatalistic. Maybe enough of my inner life was already out of joint that I find comfort in its being mirrored back to me from the external world. Maybe I just don't have the energy to get worked up anymore. Or perhaps there's some other factor at work. I keep remembering what it was like after the Bay Area's big earthquake back in 1989. In the immediate aftermath I felt totally intoxicated with adrenaline. Even after several weeks, I still got a rush every time I saw some broken structure or rode on BART at 4am. I don't want to sound too Steven King-like here, but it could be that there's some paranormal force that manifests in times of rupture like this. Tags: analysis, everyday
Current Location: 85704
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The last two days have been filled with potentially stress-inducing tasks, from sitting in lots of stop-and-go freeway traffic in the Phoenix area -- the East Valley is absurdly spread out -- to preparing for the delivery of a new washer, which necessitated many hours of rearranging "temporary" boxes in the garage. Not to mention that my allergies have been terrible for the past week, for reasons I just can't discern. But I've been in an extraordinarily good mood, considering. Instead of feeling oppressed by the many burdens of my existence, which has certainly been taxing of late, I am strangely hopeful. Maybe it's because of the great moonlit bicycle ride I went on Tuesday night or the time-exposure photography session it inspired me to pursue after I'd returned home. Or maybe it's simply that whatever natural cycle I'm on simply has me going through a good phase. Whatever the explanation, I'll drink this potion, in which desire is suspended in a base of deep contentment, with relish. Tags: analysis, autobiography, everyday
Current Location: 85704
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It's been a while since I posted much here. But my absence was not the result of a conscious decision to disappear. I just lacked the conditions necessary for me to do much social networking. My parents were out here for Thanksgiving, meaning that I spent a lot of my time bustling about in the kitchen. The whole time they were visiting, my daughter Skylar had the flu, further prying me loose from my daily routine. Although she apparently had the H1N1 strain, it was a mild case. Basically, she had a persistent fever for a week and felt weak and easily overwhelmed by excessive stimulation. I felt bad for her, but am glad she was still able to enjoy her grandparents' visit and partake of the Thanksgiving repast. And then there was the simple fact that my parents' aren't computer people. Although I did have to work on a few deadlines while they looked on, I just didn't feel comfortable blogging in their presence. I had the sense that doing so would be like text messaging at a dinner party. Anyway, I'm back. I grew sort of attached to the freedom that came from not posting, so I may produce fewer entries per week going forward. But despite the anxieties stirred up by my "blogiversary" a few months back, I have decided that it wouldn't make sense for me to call a halt to this journal. As Neil Young didn't say, it's worse to burn out than to fade away. . . Tags: analysis, blogging, everyday
Current Location: 85719
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One of the drawbacks of spending most of my time with a camera close at hand is that I end up in way fewer photographs than the friends and family who oblige my documentary impulse. It was thus a great treat for me to see that my friend Joel Schalit had posted a shot of the early arrivals for the first reading on his tour for Israel vs. Utopia.  I'm blurry, fittingly, because I had just been taking shots of him standing at the podium and didn't realize until it was too late that what he was doing. That may sound odd, but I often hold the camera at chest level and make a point of not looking directly at either the view screen or my subject, because I've found that I can circumvent the pressure to pose that way. I should also mention that the setting for this photograph makes it especially poignant for me. Elliott Bay Book Company, longtime anchor of Seattle's Pioneer Square district, is going to have to vacate the neighborhood. I first explored the store in 1992 on vacation with my then-partner and then happily returned, with Joel and Annalee Newitz, to read from the first Bad Subjects collection in January of 1998. Because the reading area in the basement adjoins the café that was recreated for the television show Frasier, one of many examples of 1990s culture that sold the city's virtues, I felt a touch of celebrity performing there. While the bookstore may live on at a new site, purportedly in Capitol Hill, the special feel of the classic building -- discernible in the brickwork in the back of the room here -- will not survive the transfer. Tags: friends, travel
Current Location: 85704
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It's so strange to spend time with friends who are childless and have schedules that aren't complicated by parental responsibilities. After a number of misadventures, I'm now sitting in the house of a couple with two small children. Their mother, whom I've known since 1991, sometimes asks me if I'm bored, since I'm mostly playing variations on peek-a-boo with the baby and imagination play -- cat and mouse, murder of crows -- with the four-year-old. The truth, though, is that I'm deeply comforted by the chance to slow down in that way. I love staying up late to talk music and philosophy. I miss the opportunity to do that regularly, which I haven't really had in Tucson of late. At the same time, though, I'm a little overwhelmed by the experience. After a few days of inhabiting that lifestyle, it's nice to be able to come back down to a reality where I'm discussing pre-schools instead of the Frankfurt School. Tags: everyday, friends, travel
Current Location: 98112
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Name: Charlie Bertsch
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You're looking at content from my Live Journal, which I have been keeping since 2003. I consider it a personal blog, though it lacks stream-of-consciousness revelations that typify that genre.
That said, if you manage to discern the confessional mode within entries that are superficially tight-lipped, I will reward you handsomely. Or at least pretend to do so.
In addition to reflections, however mediated, on my daily activities, De File features periodic excavations of material from my "files," a revelation sure to disturb anyone who has seen my garage. It's an experiment in integrating past and present, perhaps with a little redemption along the way.
Politics is always on my mind, but rarely explicit here. I’m working on a theory about what personal writing like this does to literary identification and why some people resist its pull so powerfully. But my goal is to make that theory dissolve in my practice, a density in liquid.
You'll note that I have links to blogs not on LiveJournal directly above, as well as assorted websites of note. The blogs I read regularly on LiveJournal itself fall under "FRIENDS" at the top, for those of you unfamiliar with LJ’s workings.
You can write me. I'm "cbertsch" before the circle-a and "comcast.net" after it. |
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