Words create sentences, sentences create paragraphs, sometimes paragraphs quicken and begin to breathe. Imagine, if you like, Frankenstein’s monster on its slab. Here comes lightning- not from the sky, but from a humble paragraph of English words. Maybe it’s the first really good paragraph you ever wrote, something so fragile and yet full of possibility that you are frightened. You feel as Victor Frankenstein must have when the dead conglomeration of sewn-together spare parts suddenly opened its watery yellow eyes. _Oh my Rickson Gracie, it’s breathing,_ you realize. _Maybe it’s even thinking. What in hell’s name do I do next?_
Sunday FOD: Angry Snake Defends Its Lair. Note that the left leg must step first. Note also that the first lunge-and-thrust has your palm braced on your forearm (not the hilt) and the blade toward the ground. The last lunge-and-thrust has the hilt braced on your palm and the blade turned to the side.
Monday FOD: Walking the Path fragment.
Wednesday evening gi class at Sleeper: armbars from guard, kimuras from guard. Then opponent defends the kimura by pulling hand to belly. You follow the arm in, then take the back.
Repetitive rounds of getting my butt handed to me by three white belt guys. This was a discouraging bunch of rolls. Feeling pretty inept tonight.