I live on a wilderness farm in eastern Kentucky where I split most of my time between writing and farm chores. But I have also spent some time as a college English teacher, and once upon a time I was a carefree house painter.
What I value most at this point in my life is precious time. It is something to be made good use of, so I ask you, why spend it on living by unreflective conventions?
What intrigues me most is the conscious- and unconscious-bearing human mind. Especially superior minds. Great Minds are the true treasures of the world. The essential requisite of which is the entraining of an excellent brain and a grateful heart. We find them by reading. But some of us have been lucky enough to have had a personal encounter with such an individual.
To my mind the best contemporary American fiction writer is Annie Proulx, although Barbara Kingsolver, Carol Shields, and Marilynne Robinson are good too. But the book I've read more times than any other is The Country of the Pointed Firs by Sarah Orne Jewett. The short story I most admire is "A Good Man is Hard to Find" by Flannery O'Connor. As for plays, Enid Bagnold's The Chalk Garden is a favorite; Tennessee always;, and of course, I never get tired of the Bard. Of the many great poets to choose from, English poet Kathleen Raine is my current love; who writes, "I was never still, I turned upon the axis of my joy, I was the lonely dancer on the hill." (Very Appalachian)
Without music life would be a mistake, says Nietzsche. True as true can be.
My concern for the future comes from one of Bob Dylan's lyrics: "...so let us not talk falsely now--for the hour is getting late."