History Does Not Unfold: It Piles Up.

There Is Still Time - In The Lee, In The Quiet, In The Extraordinary Light.

Little Wonder That We. . .find The Old Pictures Of Openness - Pictures Usually Without Any Blur, And Made By What Seems A Ritual Of Patience - Wonderful. They Restore To Us Knowledge Of A Place We Seek But Lose In The Rush Of Our Search. Though To Enjoy Even The Pictures, Much Less The Space Itself, Requires That We Be Still Longer Than Is Our Custom.

When You Catch On To Your Awakening, The World Does Not Change. You Just See It Differently, That's All. You Acquire A Feeling Of Immortality. A Feeling Of Divine Bliss, So To Speak, When Things No Longer Have The Power To Affect You.

I Thought I Was Taking Pictures Of Things That I Hated. But There Was Something About These Pictures. They Were Unexpectedly, Disconcertingly Glorious.

. . .art Is A Discovery Of Harmony, A Vision Of Disparities Reconciled, Or Shape Beneath Confusion.