Among Books
I have walked among books for as long as I have walked among people: on my own shelves at home, in borrowed studies with their faint smell of dust and ink, in libraries stumbled upon like half-hidden wells along the road. None has matched the gravity of the Bodleian at Oxford, where Duke Humphrey’s Library seems to hold its breath, its oak beams darkened by centuries of watchful silence.
Books are more than companions. They are evidence, each one a voice in a larger conversation. To handle them is to listen, to weigh, to test, and to discern the difference between what merely survives and what still speaks.
Rooms Where the Past Looks Back
There have been museums too, each a chamber of time. The British Museum with its cool stone and muffled footfalls. The National Museum in Prague, where marble stairs seem to carry their own echo. The Uffizi in Florence, lit as if the air itself were painted. The Art Institute of Chicago, where light falls softly on canvases that seem to breathe. The intimate galleries of the Frist in Nashville.
These are not merely places where art is kept; they are rooms where the past continues to look back. They invite both wonder and analysis, calling for the disciplined eye that can distinguish surface impression from historical meaning.
A Pilgrimage of Thought
The sciences have been no less a part of this pilgrimage: the clean geometry of an equation, the patient assembling of proof, the way a single observation can shift the weight of a question. From the ancient disciplines of the trivium and quadrivium to the living music of Koine Greek, from the study of leadership and the architecture of organisations to the fine-grained craft of poetry and the urgencies of healthcare, each pursuit has been another vantage on the same quiet inquiry: what survives?
This is not a pursuit of novelty for its own sake. It is an ongoing act of interpretation, situating fragments in their context, discerning their significance, and testing them against the long record of human thought.
That Remains — Invocation
Among books,
rooms where the past looks back,
a pilgrimage of thought.
What survives
is the meeting of action and memory,
the archivist’s calling,
fragments that endure.
Against forgetting,
the far gaze
finds the deep archive.
What Survives
Some things are buried by design. Others vanish in the quiet turning of time. This archive concerns itself with what resists that vanishing, what endures beneath the surface, behind the silence, beyond the reach of those who once hoped it would be forgotten.
The Meeting of Action and Memory
That Remains is not merely a record of institutions in transition. It is a meditation on the meeting place of action and memory. Here are gathered the works of a life engaged in the world, shaped by leadership, scholarship, and witness, yet drawn also to contemplation, interpretation, and the deliberate keeping of memory.
The Archivist’s Calling
Through the study of primary sources and original materials, I return again and again to what survives. The archive, as I understand it, holds what was spoken and what was withheld, what was acted upon and what was quietly set aside.
The work is not only preservation but discernment: weighing evidence, testing interpretation, and guarding against the distortions of haste or nostalgia. To enter the archive is to practice patience, fidelity, and intellectual honesty.
Fragments That Endure
To tend such a record is more than preservation. The archivist is both witness and participant, one who has lived part of the story and returned with fragments. As a historian, I seek what remains not to reconstruct a lost world whole, but to uncover the forms in which truth endures.
These fragments, gathered with care and tested with rigor, become a record of what was and a quiet intimation of what may yet matter.
Against Forgetting
Each entry draws from documents, correspondence, and lived experience that persist against forgetting. The writing does not rush. It listens. It gathers. It lays down its evidence as one might place stones in a cairn, a signal to those who will come later.
What fades from headlines may still bear weight. What is lost to most may yet speak to one who listens. What others overlook, this site preserves. In the end, what matters is not always what was believed. It is what remains.
The Far Gaze
The Venetian historian Frederic C. Lane embodied the irreplaceable value of patient, exacting, and honest scholarship. Guarded by integrity at every step, he resisted the seduction of haste and easy judgment. Bent over his sources with an intellectual magnifying glass, he was nonetheless able, when he looked up, to see far into the distance.
His example reminds us that fidelity to detail does not narrow vision. It opens the way to perspective.
The Deep Archive
Such fidelity becomes part of a deeper archive, one that records not merely facts but the conditions by which truth survives. The archive is not simply storage. It is a measure of honesty, discernment, and endurance.
What remains is not only a record of what was. It is also a quiet suggestion of what may still matter.