We Cannot Empty The Mind By Thinking.

When You Abide In The I You're Abiding In The Ego. The I Is Really The Ego, The Small I. It Turns Into The Self Eventually.

The Suburban West Is, From A Moral Perspective, Depressing Evidence That We Have Misused Our Freedom. There Is, However, Another Aspect To The Landscape, An Unexpected Glory. Over The Cheap Tracts And Littered Arroyos One Sometimes See A Light As Clean As That Recorded By O'sullivan. Since It Owes Nothing To Our Care, It Is An Assurance; Beauty Is Final.

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.

You Are What You've Been Looking For. The Answer Is Always In You Alone. There Is Nothing In The External World. For The External World Is An Emanation Of Your Own Mind, Your Own Thinking And Your Own Imagination. You Created This World.

Landscape Pictures Can Offer Us, I Think, Three Verities: Geography, Autobiography, And Metaphor. Geography Is, If Taken Alone, Sometimes Boring, Autobiography Is Frequently Trivial, And Metaphor Can Be Dubious. But Taken Together, As In The Best Work Of People Like Alfred Stieglitz And Edward Weston, The Three Kinds Of Information Strengthen Each Other And Reinforce What We All Work To Keep Intact - The Affection For Life.