So the thing is that all this Flushing-excused skipping of practice has been catching up with me, I've been hopping like a bunny with a stump for a leg as opposed to a proper kendoka, and the reek from an hour under the men is too much even for myself--you know you stink when you can smell yourself whenever you enter an enclosed space. But what with the summer and Sensei away at kendo camp, at least it wasn't too too crowded. I think I still try to swing too much, rather than strike with my whole body all at once. I just don't have the same passionate, go-four-times-a-week, dig-until-the-sun-goes-down work-ethic that I used, the same sort of thing that's happened at my internship, where I used to work nonstop, not even peeing or eating, and now I'm still productive but not at such a breakneck pace. It's the sort of thing where I think I pull back once I realize that past a certain point the disproportionate competence of the novice ceases to be impressive, that after the learning curve is mounted it's ok to plateau.

At least I've found a newfound desire to push this algebra project of mine. Sometimes it feels like it's not that different from what's been done--other times it feels like I'm fighting a battle alone. Otherwise reasonable people just freeze up when you tell them that everything that they've ever done and how they've done it is completely wrong mathematically, pedagogically, politically.