There are winters and there are winters. This one is vintage New Now. Seeming to say, you can run but you cannot hide. Seeming to remind that the whole world is not in our hands.
I am troubled by how far we have gotten, away from appreciative assent and cooperative curiosity. I am worried that we are putting too many obstacles in the way of the New Now being what I believed it would be, in time, with creativity.
We have lost our sense of humor, as a culture, as a country. We have lost the moment, the conversation.
Time to write, to borrow, to collaborate.
Another who is as introspective as I am today is the author of The W(HOLE) Story -- she's a poet and a curator, it's her photo above. She too seems to be seeking some order in this chaos. The New Now.
