Monday, September 18, 2006
In the morning before waking, pleasure is at its height when the phone rings downstairs. There is a solution to great problems, too important to relinquish. I think I might be onto the reason for amyloid plaques forming in the brain, which it turns out has something to do with the neglect of beauty. The phone rings again but the duvet offers its most sybaritic, enveloping softness, warmth without heat, holding me up instead of lying flat under me. There is none of the bruising pressure that is sometimes there. Proof of how amyloid plaque derives from the neglect of beauty is only a couple of mathematically elegant expressions away. But the phone that's connected to another planet rings again.