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…