of an intensely private man, a man who was often alone with his thoughts and memories, in whose work genuine interaction with others--friendship, family, romance--was a fragile thing, a counterpoint to the loneliness of the city, to a working life spent in front of a computer screen, and to the many insomniac nights of soul-searching that feature so prominently in Ray's poetry. His work was not always palatable, and the comfort within it was hard-earned.
from The Chimaera: On Ray Pospisil (with three poems by Pospisil)
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