There is another world, but it is in this one. Paul Éluard
When Svetaketu, at his father's bidding had brought a ripe fruit from the Banyon tree, his father said to him,
"Split the fruit in two, dear son."
"Here you are. I have split it in two."
"What do you find there?"
"Innumerable tiny seeds."
"Then take one of the seeds and split it."
"I have split the seed."
"And what did you find there?"
"Why nothing at all."
"Ah dear son, but this great tree cannot possibly come from nothing.
Even if you cannot see with your eyes that subtle something in the seed which produces this mighty form, it is present nonetheless. That is the power, that is the spirit unseen, which pervades everywhere and is all things.
That is the spirit which lies at the root of all existence, and that also art also, O Svetaketu.
A garden to walk in and immensity to dream in--what more could he ask? A few flowers at his feet and above him the stars.
Words from an African griot, one day in my past...
90% of our lives are informed by invisible forces - thought, intuition, magic, serendipity, fate, karma, etc. - all things unseen, invisible, yet present.
10% is informed by our senses - what we hear, taste, feel, touch and see.
We spend 90% of our time focused on the 10%.
The quality of mercy is not strain'd,
It droppeth as the gentle rain from heaven
Upon the place beneath: it is twice blest;
It blesseth him that gives and him that takes:
'Tis mightiest in the mightiest: it becomes
The throned monarch better than his crown;
His sceptre shows the force of temporal power,
The attribute to awe and majesty,
Wherein doth sit the dread and fear of kings;
But mercy is above this sceptred sway;
It is enthroned in the hearts of kings,
It is an attribute to God himself;
And earthly power doth then show likest God's
When mercy seasons justice.
who paints with her back to the world..
Her friend , who visited Agnes Martin, told this story....
One day, I visited Agnes with my 11 year old granddaughter, Isabel.
There was a rose in a vase, and Isabel was mesmerized by the rose.
Agnes saw this, and then picked up the rose and held it up to her.
"Is this rose beautiful?" Agnes asked her....
and Isabel quickly replied, "Yes, the rose is beautiful. "
and then Agnes put the rose behind her back, and once again she questioned Isabel,
"Is the rose still beautiful, Isabel?"
and Isabel said "Yes, the rose is still beautiful"
and Agnes said to Isabel,
"So, you see, the beauty is not in the rose, the beauty, it is in your mind."
for E, whose inner beauty always surpasses her work
We are not a drop
in the ocean.....
the ocean is but
a drop in us.
The wound is where
the light enters you.
With doom ahead, making a case for cycling as the primary mode of transport is almost irrelevant,” he says. “We’ve got to stop burning fossil fuels. So many aspects of life depend on fossil fuels, except for music and love and education and happiness. These things, which hardly use fossil fuels, are what we must focus on.
do no harm