Metaphors have the capacity to mean what they say and what they don’t say. That’s almost magical, isn’t it? But what is no magic and seems as if it is lies in the crossing of those two opposites: the collision so shakes the mind to force us into imagination. This is an abrupt turn: our brain was headed due south and now our body is going north-by-northeast. We are no longer figuring out something; we are working to enter in. To a place that did not before exist.
:- Doug.
If I love to watch butterflies, do I love the change or only the beauty? What would I love of the dissolving goo of me?
:- Doug.
Footprints in the Windsm # 2243
I converse to find awe in you…knowing it is there.
Please pass it on.
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No one has conversed before. Not these conversations. Not this conversation. Does this conversation matter? Can we make it matter? Can we quickly get to the heart and compost-heap heat of the matter?
:- Doug.
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