Perfection and Erring
As a young interior designer I once ordered three thousand square feet of carpet for a showroom. It ended up not matching the Formica counters. As the “twenty something’s” say these days, “Dude, I totally freaked.” The client was pretty laid back, however, and agreed to accept a deeper discount and live with it. I bring this up now because I’m looking at mountains of discarded paper that the copying of the King James Bible has generated in my little apartment. It’s a pile of faux pas I can no longer lift. What’s more troubling is that I’ve been finding blunders in some of my already bound volumes. In a couple of places I’ve discovered failures to capitalize proper names. In others, I have conflicting spellings for the word “captivity” (or is it “captivitie.”) Whatever! I fear that these may suggest even more escapees.
So here’s the thing. I’m on the precipice of fifteen hundred hand written pages. Each is fifty-five lines long, and a foot wide. So what should I do, start again and cross my fingers? I had imagined at the beginning of these writings that I would be able to produce page after page of sheer perfection.
There’s a saying that states, “To err is human.” Seems like I’m guilty. When I confessed this to a friend over dinner, she just screwed up her face and said, “So, who isn’t? Could you pass the salt?” Then she unceremoniously tossed a few grains over her shoulder. The meal was delicious in spite of the mashed potatoes being a bit stiff.
As published in the June 2011 issue of "St. Peter's Press," the monthly newsletter of St. Peter's Presbyterian Church in Spencertown, New York. At the time of publication, Phillip was still in the middle of the fifth of what will be eight volumes of the handwritten bible.