and from this indigent river,
this blood-mud that meanders
with its almost static march
through sclerosis and cement
and from the people who stagnate
in the river's mucus,
entire lives rotting
one by one to death,
you can learn that the human being
is always the best measure,
and that the measure of the human
is not death but life.

joao cabral de melo neto


the facts cut me off.  the clean boxes of history, geography, science, art.  what is the separateness of things when the current that flows each to each is live?  it is the livingness that i want.

jeanette winterson
i'm talking about not covering every square inch with houses and strip malls until you can't remember what happens when you stand in a meadow at dusk.

what happens in the meadow at dusk?


it's beautiful