I love words the way photographers love light—secondarily for its effects, where the thing itself is prime. I want to be surrounded. To live a life leaved and wreathed in words. To hem my days in them, embroider each encounter. I want to stare at them all day long. Which makes physics and fighting a real problem.
Facing the matter of matter in this month’s Ruminate post.
After a silence, some thoughts on quitting and the ledgers we keep in the latest Ruminate post.
Is it our ability to create? Our rational enlightenment, our hunger for companions, our animating energies? Our capacity for empathy, our souls, our consciousness? Something about the pattern in our left thumbprints? There are so many ways we are clearly unlike God that identifying a single trait—somehow incorruptible and indissoluble—that our wills, evolution, or company can’t destroy feels holy. And like the holy grail.
Searching for imago Dei in the latest Ruminate post.
“…A pulled violin string, an upswept arm, candlelight, the wind over warm prairie grass, an irreproducible daub of mixed oils and beauty bursts, seeping warm and liquid along our ribs, feeling like nothing so much as grief.”
More on where Eden may have gone in this month’s Ruminate post.