Society, Like Nature, Is One Body, Really.

Self-reflection Is A Desire Felt By The Body, As Well As The Soul. As Dancers, Healers, And Saints All Know, When You Turn Your Attention Toward Even The Simplest Physical Process - Breath, The Small Movements Of The Eyes, The Turning Of A Foot In Midair - What Might Have Seemed Dull Matter Suddenly Awakens.

What Always Seems Miraculous Is When Aesthetic Necessities Yield An Insight Which Otherwise I Would Have Missed.

At The Museum A Troubled Woman Destroys A Sand Painting Meticulously Created Over Days By Tibetan Monks. The Monks Are Not Disturbed. The Work Is A Meditation. They Simply Begin Again.

I Know I Am Made From This Earth, As My Mother's Hands Were Made From This Earth, As Her Dreams Came From This Earth And All That I Know, I Know In This Earth, The Body Of The Bird, This Pen, This Paper, These Hands, This Tongue Speaking, All That I Know Speaks To Me Through This Earth.

We Are Nature. We Are Nature Seeing Nature. We Are Nature With A Concept Of Nature. Nature Weeping. Nature Speaking Of Nature To Nature.