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Wednesday, October 16, 2002

Why is it that when a body most needs rest is when it's most forced to keep in motion? And when a mind most needs quiet is when the most noise is heard. Is a force at work to create this filling of the vacuum, when the vacuum is all that's desired? Is it maybe a law of physics, only not physics but a science less physical, without theorems or proofs?

I think that might be what art is, patterns and designs that can be discerned but not explained. Or if not art, art appreciation. Look at the pretty colors. Please make them stop.

Some days float on a rubber raft on a glassy lake. Today plummeted down a rocky waterfall. Its skin is flayed. Its lungs are filled with water. At some point it stops trying to swim back up and lets itself bounce off the rocks. Down and down, hoping the bottom is soft, dark and cool.

And quiet. Mostly hoping for a bit of stillness. Nothing can be told unless there's silence first to hear.



There is no whole, only parts. Take this moment. It's calm. Now take this moment. Calm, too. Find a way through the storm dashing between the doorways. It's raging out there, but there are ports. Coves. Caves, if necessary. Then back out again, because what else is there?

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Latest recommendations:

Wil, wil wheaton dot net, October 15, Houses In Motion

Michael, Baker Street, October 16, What It's Like

Recent recommendations can always be found on the links page.

One year ago: Stolen Time
"The birds must know that winter is coming, but they didn't show it today."

Two years ago: Represent
"We have incomplete pictures of each other, but the more we try, the closer we come to filling in the blanks."

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