How many years have slipped through our hands?
At least as many as the constellations we still can identify.
The quarter moon, like a light skiff,
floats out of the mist-remnants
Of last night’s hard rain.
It, too, will slip through our fingers
with no ripple, without us in it.
- Charles Wright
It had not been easy to get back
nor to break the chains of responsibility
that are built up, seemingly,
as lightly as spiderwebs
but that hold like steel cables.
—Ernest Hemingway, True at first light: A Fictional Memoir. Scribner, 2000
From My Modern Met: Hossein Zare, is an Iranian photographer. He is an absolute master at creating spectacular photos that depict otherworldly and surreal scenes.
New technology – like the computer – freed men and women from all kinds of drudgery, saved them vast amounts of time… .And yet the time saved did not seem to mean additional leisure or greater opportunities for meditation and reflection. Instead, with each new wave of technology, the pace of life increased; there was more to do, more choices to make, more things to experience, and people eagerly seized upon those experiences and filled the hours that had only moments ago become empty. Each year life seemed to be flitting past with far greater speed than the year before, as if God had cranked up the control knob on the flow of time. But that wasn’t right, either, because to many people, even the concept of God seemed dated in an age in which the universe was being forced to let go of its mysteries on a daily basis. Science, technology, and change were the only gods now, the new Trinity; and while they were not consciously cruel and judgmental, as some of the old gods had been, they were too coldly indifferent to offer any comfort to the sick, the lonely, and the lost.
— Dean Koontz
Thoughts arrive like butterflies
Oh, he don’t know
So he chases them away
Someday yet he’ll begin his life again
Whispering hands, carry him away …
— Pearl Jam
The sun is perfect and you woke this morning.
You have enough language in your mouth to be understood.
You have a name, and someone wants to call it.
Five fingers on your hand and someone wants to hold it.
If we just start there,
every beautiful thing that has and will ever exist is possible.
If we start there, everything, for a moment, is right in the world.
~ Warsan Shire
Caleb was in Central Park way before the horse and buggy rides showed up. Debra, from The Ptero Card, shared the following:
“I knew I had a more personal connection to Caleb. It was a long time ago, somewhere in the late 1960′s New York City. As you can see from the photo, I had to share him with others.”
Thank you Debra