Word: autumns
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...work was divided into five parts that explored a different facet of Mahler's self-contemplation. In the first piece, known as the "drinking song," a man laments that "Dark is life, dark is death" and copes by losing himself in drink. The second piece, "The Solitary in Autumn," was hardly more sanguine; the singer moaned "I weep in my loneliness; autumn stays too long in my heart." But the piece was not all despairing. "Of Youth" extolled friendship, while "Of Beauty" explored aesthetic unity in nature. Although each song seemed discrete, each number was enmeshed under one unifying rubric...
...into closets, rummages through attics and basements, dragging out the industrial-strength parkas, the mukluks, the Gore-Tex vests and the flannel-lined chinos, as we prepare for winter in New Hampshire. Pause for a moment at that last phrase: "winter in New Hampshire." Unlike "April in Paris" or "autumn in New York" or "springtime in the Rockies," no one has ever written a song titled Winter in New Hampshire. Ever wonder...
...Autumn just got chillier for Chile's patriarch. The Spanish government on Friday formalized its request to extradite General Augusto Pinochet, leaving the ex-dictator's fate in the hands of Britain's House of Lords. The bewigged Law Lords will next week rule on the legality of Pinochet's arrest by British police. If they uphold it, he could be headed for a long holiday in Spain...
...pains, labor and birth 21 years ago have made 28 my lucky number, orange (from the imminent Halloween) my favorite color and October somehow a poignant month. Arbitrariness and coincidence take on meaning and inform the temporal map through which I navigate my life. Twenty-eight is one signpost, autumn another and the paragraph on Scorpio in Cosmo's horoscope a third. That's why I have a responsibility to reconfirm this arbitrary meaning for myself each year by celebrating on my birthday no matter what reading, what thesis, or what application is waiting...
...talked to people I hadn't seen in years while enduring both the chill New England weather and the noise of the subway (the station wasn't that far away). I hadn't felt an intimacy like this in awhile. Sometimes Harvard can feel as cold as the biting autumn skies...