Greetings from the Campus. I have about -10 minutes.

I’m sitting on the second floor math library. The name of the building just escaped my memory. Bronfman.

I took my Master’s exams up there, on the third floor, around the corner. I don’t know if that room is still there– haven’t gone to check.

I don’t know what to express. This is a personal voyage, and the beginning of a much larger voyage.

A student mentions that she can call a friend, to teach her group how to use Mathematica. I turn my head to look at the table where I learned Mathematica. The computer is no longer there.   Ohwait– we have these things called laptops!

I cannot, possibly, express all that this institution is. I’ve been talking, for the past days, with Professors and students and staff.

Chris Waters and I spoke yesterday,  about what you do not notice when you live here day-to-day.   For me,  I have not sat in this library and worked and listened for a decade–  and yet that decade is also only a day or two away,  in my memory.

All that once happened here,   is present,  the only odd thing,   those things which have suddenly changed,  the new faces,  the new buildings and things that have moved,   the new conversations and topics,  amid the old.

I cannot express my joy in being here,   though some of you may understand what this place means to me,  and the constant joy I have in looking around at it,   listening to its conversations and even its problems.  For this quiet library space,  where most of the tables are empty,  and where I cannot quite tune out the discussion of polynomials and fields that is coming from the next table.

For the yawn that just came from the Psychology library above.   I’ve fallen asleep over Weber in that chair,  a few times.   Professor Kassin woke me up a few times,  later than this at night.

Williams,  this incredible institution.  I cannot express it all,  but if there are geographies of the mind,  then think of Williams as an living architecture of knowledge,   an extended distribution of containers for thought and activity,  across this landscape,  a monument,  unique in its achievement.

Where else,  can I find this– do this?

For now–  I am home.

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