De File - Post a comment
Does Collecting Make You Feel Dirty?
Landslide Brought Me
After I dropped Skylar off at school Friday morning, I decided to do something for myself, something selfish even. Kim needed to sleep without potential distractions anyway. And I didn't need to be back to get Skylar until after 2. I decided to do the thing that is so easy for residents of Tucson to do, yet which doesn't get done enough. I drove up the Mount Lemmon Highway to Marshall Gulch near the top, then started hiking on the Aspen Trail. I realized, though, that I didn't really have time to go far on the trail and also that my Vans would kill my feet if I walked a long ways. But there were rocks to clamber up nearby, the sort for which having worn-thin rubber soles is an advantage. So that's what I did. I picked my way up the slope and managed to get myself up on top of the biggest boulder in my immediate vicinity, where I then hung out for an hour taking in the view, photographing, writing in my journal and eating the Newman's Own Organic Ginger Mints that I am utterly addicted to at present. It was a real treat. My spirit felt reinivgorated and my body, especially my ankles and feet, were happy for the exercise I got making my way up and then, more laboriously, down. The subject header here invokes the Fleetwood Mac song, which is one of my all-time favorites. On the drive up I l had listened to the excellent new compilation of covers Just Tell Me That You Want Me: A Fleetwood Mac Tribute, which features a superb version of Landslide by Antony of Antony and Johnsons. The lyrics always hit home for me, but never more than now, when I am struggling to move on with my life in a grown-up way, despite a whole lot of heartbreak part of me is clinging to with extreme tenacity.

Leave a comment

No HTML allowed in subject


Notice! This user has turned on the option that logs IP addresses of anonymous posters. 

(will be screened)

Charlie Bertsch
User: cbertsch
Name: Charlie Bertsch
Back January 2015
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.