This Gypsy may be soon again a-roving...

Gypsy Scholar

"Seeks Intellectual Home"

(Image Borrowed without Persimmon from Gypsy Scholar)

As romantic love, or eros, ultimately finds its proper home in marital bliss, so intellectual love, philos, eventually finds its own in the university.

I keep searching, hoping to find my proper intellectual home, quell my restless gypsy ways, and join Lord Byron, perhaps in sighing, but certainly in saying:

So, we'll go no more a roving
So late into the night,
Though the heart be still as loving,
And the moon be still as bright.

For the sword outwears its sheath,
And the soul wears out the breast,
And the heart must pause to breathe,
And love itself have rest.

Though the night was made for loving,
And the day returns too soon,
Yet we'll go no more a roving
By the light of the moon.

Yet, as the end of the autumn semester begins to draw nigh, and thus the end of my contract, so I again must play the gyspy role and ply my gypsy trade, roving elsewhere in my search for an intellectual home.

I haven't made a review of my qualifications less than arduous for departments to undertake. My degree is in history, my doctoral thesis on the fourth gospel and gnosticism, and my teaching and scholarship have been all over the place.

All over the place? What sorts of place? Thanks for asking. I've taught history, philosophy, religious studies, grammar, composition, creative writing, literature, and even Coptic, among other things.

I've done scholarly work in these areas, too.

And, yes, I know how dilettantish this all sounds, but it's not like that ... though I don't expect to convince anybody who doesn't already know me.

Still ... if anyone out there knows of a welcoming intellectual home, remember that a gypsy-scholar stray will soon again be out on the anamnestic streets, "in wandering mazes lost" (PL 2.561), seeking the dimly remembered paradise...