Every Wednesday I spend a little time with Wendell Berry, utilitarian writer and Kentucky farmer. I read him, watch him, and maybe post a thought or two about him. Not because I believe I have something terribly insightful to add, but because I imagine my thoughts bring me closer into communion with his.
Today I didn’t get much of a chance to sit down with Wendell. I got a late start, then went straight to work on a screenplay I’ve been slogging through for the last few months. In the afternoon I met up with an actor friend and taught a class on chess. I returned home, walked the dog and ate a quick dinner with my girlfriend before she went out for the evening.
It was at this point I expected to call on Mr. Berry but being rather tired, I watched a bit of basketball and spent my evening away.
It’s late now. Wednesday is almost over. And the fact that I whiled my evening away puts me in a rather bad mood. When I’m agitated in this way my world has the texture of petrified wood. All the air and water has been pushed out of it.
Berry’s poem “The Contrariness of the Mad Farmer” helps aerate and hydrate my world.
PS: I actually recorded myself reading “The Contrariness of the Mad Farmer” first but haven’t yet upgraded to a premium WordPress plan, so I can’t upload it. 😦