It is the habit of mankind to entrust to careless hope what they long for, and to use sovereign reason to thrust aside what they do not desire.
Thucydides, History of the Peloponnesian War, Book IV 4.98
Photo by Jacek Smoter on Unsplash

It is the habit of mankind to entrust to careless hope what they long for, and to use sovereign reason to thrust aside what they do not desire.
Thucydides, History of the Peloponnesian War, Book IV 4.98
Photo by Jacek Smoter on Unsplash

Anger is a hot coal you hold in your hand while waiting to throw it at somebody.
Attributed to Buddha.
Photo by Elimende Inagella on Unsplash

Today’s Writing Wednesdays post from Steven Pressfield gets to the heart of a writer’s dilemma: do you stay true to your work and possibly earn nothing (“Nobody wants to read your sh*t.”), or do you compromise to the demands of the market?
Reflecting on the author Elizabeth Gilbert’s deal with her writing, he asks if we’re prepared to do the same.
Her deal was:
“I will never ask you to support me. I will support you.”
That’s a mighty challenge to integrity and income.

New, pulsed thermography, imaging techniques are deciphering scrolls last read 2,000 years ago.
When Vesuvius erupted in 79AD, burying Pompeii and drowning Herculaneum in volcanic mud, the surge of hot gas carbonised an entire library in a villa now known as the Villa dei Papiri, thought to be owned by Julius Caesar’s father-in-law Lucius Calpurnius Piso Caesoninus. The papyrus scrolls were turned to fragile logs of charcoal, too blackened and fragile to interpret.
Over the last couple of years, thanks to advanced, non-intrusive imaging techniques, AI and an open-source Vesuvius Challenge (which awarded $700,000, the largest prize in archaeology to three computer students), the scrolls are being read.
This week, researchers from the University of Pisa revealed previously unknown details about Zeno of Citium, the founder of Stoicism, along with works on the Epicurean school and biographies of Greek physicians. Zeno, it appears, was frail and had a tendency to avoid banquets, but then he was also mocked for his poor Greek (he was Phoenician) and accused of “annoying young men with his chatter and reproaches”. His famous, but long lost, work The Republic is reported in the newly deciphered History of the Stoic School as being morally questionable and “embarrassing” because his vision of utopia rejected private marriage and family life, and advocated equality between men and women and tolerance of same-sex relationships.
The University of Pisa has a detailed post, here.
The Times has been running stories following the project here, here and here.

The goal of life is to make your heartbeat match the beat of the universe, to match your nature with Nature.
Joseph Campbell (1904 – 1987), quoted in Reflections on the Art of Living: A Joseph Campbell Companion
Photo by Bailey Zindel on Unsplash

Here’s an interview with Douglas Murray about Roger Scruton and a new edition of Scruton’s Confessions of a Heretic…

Nicholas Bate suggests seven things to choose. What else could you possibly need?
(though I might add forests)…
5. Creativity
6. Music
7. Mountains & Coast
Image: Andrew Munro

This is good. Stoicism and salesmanship, especially as it relates to creatives and reluctant sellers.
Being published in indie publishing is a lot like starting in acting, none of us are experts, everyone is trying to get noticed, and it’s not at all glamorous. Although it is an honor and privilege to be published, to get your book in the hands of the people, to find your readers, takes some elbow grease. This means…you become a salesperson.

Treat with respect the power you have to form an opinion. By it alone can the helmsman within you avoid forming opinions that are at variance with nature and with the constitution of a reasonable being.
Marcus Aurelius (AD 120 – 180), Meditations (3.9)

Have nothing in your houses that you do not know to be useful or believe to be beautiful.
William Morris (1834 – 1896), Hopes and Fears for Art: Five Lectures Delivered in Birmingham. London and Nottingham, 1878-1881
Photo: Andrew Munro