Sy Safransky
Sy Safransky is founder and editor emeritus of The Sun. He lives in Chapel Hill, North Carolina.
February 1978
We are free to do most anything, yet, understanding so little about freedom, we confuse it with license, as we confuse living with style.
February 1978Breadmen’s
The Rose In The Greasy Fist
I’ll start with a startling admission: in this, The New Age, the closest I come to feeling part of a community is at an all-night cafe just down the block called Breadmen’s.
December 1977Sara Elizabeth Safransky
Born Nov. 3, 1977, 1:45 A.M.
In the depth of my own understanding, I meet you in timeless wonder. I have no conscious memories of our “other lifetimes” together. It doesn’t matter. Your mother, reaching for you, drawing you back to her, reaches across the aeons.
November 1977The Man Between
Hunched over the typewriter, one eye on the clock, I’m eternal, and I’m sweating it out. Then space opens its fist, I’m neither in nor out, not who I imagine, yet imagined by my Self. The hum of things continues. I’m the kiss of life — if only for this moment, to this moment I’ll cling.
October 1977Psychic Readings: Facing An Empty Canvas
Why does someone call himself a psychic and begin charging for his services? The motivation is surely as complex as in seeking a psychic’s help. Perhaps it will one day seem no more unusual to go for a reading than for a physical exam at a doctor’s office; but as there are good and bad doctors, there are psychics of every description.
September 1977
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