Communicating Arts - Main Web Site
July 27, 2007, 10:30 a.m.
This will turn out a warm day.
The air is still.
Temperatures in the 80's (F) and thunderstorms have been predicted.
I am going to type steadily, slowly, ritually, half awake over coffee while fan blades spin above the dining room table.
As I once played my guitar five times a day, I wonder now how beautiful a day I may make this one with music, photography, cooking, reading, writing, gardening--not just the arts through which one may pass in a day, out of election or necessity, but which in each separate meditation touches on the divine.
I have been too long on the Internet, chatting with strangers, swimming in the war news, bathing my mind in its blood and horror, and off the web reading through one of Walter Laqueur's histories, an appropriate accompaniment to the timeless drifts of bandits and revolutionaries across the universal mindscape.
Whatever the misery and tumult, some few may for a while live apart and farther into the present than the past, for the beauty of an art sufficiently developed lies in the effect it has on time, which may be made to expand and grow still.
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