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You Must Go Home Again

By home I mean the idea of re-inhabitation — an awareness of and loyalty to sense of place, and literally to a particular place. A place in Nature. A place of geography where one’s heart and inner machinery are filled with the silences of reality, and are at peace.

Walls

I don’t like what I see around me: people with big cars, four bedroom houses and mobile homes and closets full of clothes. I don’t want to know I am one of the people who have so much in a world of people who have so little.

Dream Journal

The portraits are abstractions until my friend pulls a secret lever and the paintings open, like books. I gasp as the women’s faces, their thoughts, their histories come alive. They are unaware of us and may be studied on any level we choose.

News Of The Universe

Poems Of Twofold Consciousness

This book asks one question over and over: how much consciousness is the poet willing to grant to trees or hills or living creatures not a part of his own species?

Poet Of The Ordinary

Book Review

Yet the mansion of fiction has many rooms, and enough of even its greatest writers do not fit our preconceived molds. Goodman was not that streetcorner babbler, wrapped up in remembered and invented anecdote, but a thinker, an observer, a contemplator.

Insisting On Love

Oh you modest-living professional little bastards, giving in to all that mortgaged decency, all those inner rules of silence, as if the spirit of youth was an aberration to be got over and not the event itself, the event of your life, the adventure you ended up betraying for a house in Twit Acres and 2.3 kids you won’t ever understand.

Prelude To A Pilgrimage

My fear perceived my gradual return to rationality and slipped back within me, weaker now but still awesome, a headless beast howling against the rising of the sun. I feel it sometimes in the morning when I wake into the disorientation of a depression. I flee into the rhythm of exercise. The flesh has power over the mind, as both are connected elements of a unity. And gradually my consciousness re-creates itself as a familiar fabric.

Powerless No More

On Meeting Patricia Sun

Patricia’s work in the world quickly moved from academia to a home no longer hidden: a personal partnership with anyone who cared to work with her, piece by piece, on the expansion of private politics to a global realm and the exposure of the lie that we are powerless.

And Endless Sorrow

Book Review

There is an immense sadness to this book, especially at the end, but it is a sadness that is squarely faced and thus in a sense overcome. It is the sadness that the past inevitably has, that these things happened and those did not, a life was given to this and not to that, a happiness that seemed available was not achieved. It is a sadness that the reality of our lives always has, but to find it expressed with such clarity and poignance in a work of art is rare.

To Move The Stars

We depend on the men with blackboards to show us quarks; we depend on men with backward collars to show us some equivalent of quarks. But suppose that neither show us anything.