#NewThisDay Writing From My Photo Stream

The rain gone, the sky cleared and I began my day by live-streaming the funeral of Glen Hansard from Youtube. I watched for a bit, and then put my earbuds in and walked to the pond, walking and grieving and appreciating the amazing music played and sung during his service. It was everything a funeral should be, with the people who knew Glen best sharing what he mean to them, sharing stories about him, and most of all, his talented loved ones and friends playing instruments and singing songs to honor him. What an act of generosity to live stream his funeral from St. Patrick’s Cathedral in Dublin so that we could all mourn this incredible loss. I walked until the service ended, and then I took my swim at the pond with the sun on my back. I went to the island, but not around the island because the geese have gathered and hang out on the other side of the island. A delicious swim, and the walk home. In the afternoon, I worked all afternoon on a new poem and wrote it partly about Glen’s funeral. It was very moving to write the poem, and I think it’s part of my new manuscript. I wrote it for that. I knew I’d gotten some good things down and then I went outdoors to stretch my legs and be with my sadness, but also be in the green soft grass, to feel grateful that I had written. Tonight, in the New York Times I read this great opinion piece by the columnist Bret Stephens, about the use of AI in writing, titled, I’m Begging You: Never Write with AI:

What, uniquely, does writing do? It compels thought. It compels thinking in ways that silent contemplation or spoken language rarely can. It compels us to subject our thinking to the effort of articulation, the rigor of grammar, the tests of intelligibility and coherence, the inspection of others. In doing so, it also enjoins us to be clear, logical, accurate — and accountable. People may easily forgive a word said in anger but not so easily one written in anger, precisely because the fact that it was written tells us that it was considered.