What about a single day? Can we create something that is savored and meant for today?
Yes, I believe we can.
Here is today’s declaration, a sum of my reading and explorations meant for today. Living in such a curious world produces enough mental fodder to keep me at this for years: harmonious cookies, snowboarding crows and redemptive fonts.
This is journalism at its best — the real journalism, the world of ideas and stories that must form and mingle before a word can be committed to ink, digital or otherwise.
Today is just past the midpoint of the shortest month in a year with an additional day, and the temperature is exactly halfway between nothing at all and 100 percent, also known as 50 degrees and sunny.
There is a moment in nearly every day when I simultaneously rejoice at the connectivity the Internet inspires and grimace at the wedge in community I feel it creates. Our highways can be reduced to colored lines, but we can’t say hello to our neighbors or engage with our fellow citizens in public spaces.
Instead, we must remember to add friction, like a pen to paper, and always be mindful of the importance of forgetting. We can read libraries in our hands, but do not let that powerful fool you. You must see the words and taste the words for yourselves.
Those who would write obituaries in Hampton Inns are the same who choose not to have guts and don’t know that excellence is worth achieving or that failure and curiosity drive the constantly traveling vehicle of knowledge.
But they, like us, have tomorrow.