Another Strand Of My Writing Is The

The Book Of Telling Tells Of A Woman's Journey To Uncover The Secret Life Of Her Father And To Find Herself In The Process, An Unusual Counterpoint Between Personal History And The History Of A Young Nation. Haunting, Powerful, And Beautifully Written.

What Sense Is There In Continuing When One Has Seen The Future?

One Metaphor For How We Are Living Is That You See So May People With Cell Phones. In Restaurants, Walking, They Have Cell Phones Clamped To Their To Heads. When They Are On Their Cell Phones They Are Not Where Their Bodies Are...they Are Somewhere Else In Hyperspace. They Are Not Grounded. We Have Become Disembodied. By Being Always Somewhere Else We Are Nowhere.

In This World, There Are Two Times. There Is Mechanical Time And There Is Body Time. The First Is As Rigid And Metallic As A Massive Pendulum Of Iron That Swings Back And Forth, Back And Forth, Back And Forth. The Second Squirms And Wriggles Like A Bluefish In A Bay. The First Is Unyielding, Predetermined. The Second Makes Up Its Mind As It Goes Along.

We've Lost Our Way, We Have Lost Our Centeredness. We Don't Have The Time, Literally, To Think During The Day. To Listen To Ourselves Think. To Think About Where We Are Going, Who We Are, What's Important. I Would Bet Most People Don't Have Thirty Minutes In A Day Where They Can Just Sit Down And Think. Or Maybe They Don't Have To Be Sitting, They Can Be Walking.