standing on the pavement, feet burning, & looking up


This is it, I think, this is it, right now, the present, this empty gas station, here, this western wind, this tang of coffee on the tongue, & I am patting the puppy, I am watching the mountain. And the second I verbalise this awareness in my brain, I cease to see the mountain or feel the puppy. I am opaque, so much black asphalt……Annie Dillard

what could be more counter-intuitive to fluffy white clouds in the deep blue sky than black asphalt? isn’t this why cloud-watching is perfect, sublime, translucent to the senses?

the ideal of the experiential moment…the one that unfolds, is self-contained & tender…organic like bamboo, skin, & clouds…..

Give me nothing fixed, set, static. Don’t give me the infinite or the eternal: nothing of infinity, nothing of eternity. Give me the still, white seething, the incandescence & coldness of the incarnate moment…the immediate present, the Now…..D.H. Lawrence

may we soothe our burning feet & our burning hearts….

breathe in the cool day…

just a little cool silence 

2 thoughts on “standing on the pavement, feet burning, & looking up

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