Music Is Just A Word For Something

There Are Many Things Worth Telling That Are Not Quite Narrative. And Eternity Itself Possesses No Beginning, Middle Or End. Fossils, Arrowheads, Castle Ruins, Empty Crosses: From The Parthenon To The Bo Tree To A Grown Man's Or Woman's Old Stuffed Bear, What Moves Us About Many Objects Is Not What Remains But What Has Vanished. There Comes A Time, Thanks To Rivers, When A Few Beautiful Old Teeth Are All That Remain Of The Two-hundred-foot Spires Of Life We Call Trees. There Comes A River, Whose Current Is Time, That Does A Similar Sculpting In The Mind.

The Environment, What Surrounds You, Is So Alive And Delightful And Complex.

Faith Of Cranes Is A Love Song To The Beauty And Worth Of The Lives We Are Able To Lead In The World Just As It Is, Troubled Though It Be... The Writing Is Honest, Intensely Lived, And Overflowing With Heart: Broken, Mended, And Whole.

I'd Trapped Myself In A Script.... But To Be Scripted At All Is To Be Prepackaged, Programmed, Pinned To A Page. Only The Unwritten Can Truly Live A Life. So Who I Was, What I Was, Had To Be Unwritten.

--i Truly And Deeply Wanted To Kill Him. And I Believe I Could Have Done It, With Nothing But My Hands. But All Of A Sudden, Out Of Nowhere, Peter Had An Arm Around Me. "let It Go, Kade," He Was Whispering Very Gently, Though His Arm Was Nearly Crushing Me. "open Your Fists," He Said, "and Let Go Of The Coals.