MUIR ("Crater") LAKE JULY, South Wallowas . . .
On the road in the American Northwest. [ click photo for next . . . ]
LET ME REMIND MYSELF HERE:
Do not mistake--density for intensity,
complicatedness for complexity,
or merely a loud voice
for vitality
DRAWING CIRCLES . . .
What’s an island but a circle we draw around some part of the world,
a line of difference, of demarcation, separating that which is inside,
from that which is out. It all begins, of course, with an actual physical
island, separated by its coastline from the sea. From here, the idea of
island proceeds to be transformed in thought, easily and seamlessly, by
the miracle of metaphor into the realm of the more subtle and unseen.
Thus we have “islands of beauty” in an “ocean of ugliness,” “islands
of security” in a “sea of violence,” “islands of peace and tranquility”
in a “non-stop turbulent flood” of useless data and misinformation.
The width of the circle of these metaphorical isles is entirely of our
own making. We may carry the circle in our own breast; or it may
expand to embrace the entire world, or beyond.
Imagine for a moment with me a spaceship full of friendly beings from
some unknown outback of the Universe. As they first come in sight of
Earth, they would almost certainly be utterly amazed at our planet’s
beauty, the striking blue of its seas, the amazing white flowforms of
the clouds of its atmosphere. To them, I’m very sure, it would seem
“an island paradise,” an extraordinary circle of life in a vast ocean of
orbiting waterless rough rocks. It might do much to attune our own
thinking of Earth’s unique place in space if we were to draw our own
metaphorical circle in much the same way.
THE WATER IN US . . .
How the water in us wishes to lie flat in deep repose at night,
like the water of a clear mountain lake high in a hidden valley.
And how the water in us wishes to hold and reflect, like a lake’s quiet
surface, all the stars and planets and galaxies of the cloudless night sky.
The water in us: Here. Now. Timeless. The water in us: but a mere frac-
tion of the whole, yet resonant with a Universe evidently without begin-
ning, and without end.THE LITTLE CLAVIER please preview 150 of 631 pages
w/ my black & white photography [opens in new window]
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(created: IV.17.2012)