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The mountains, the Nags Head Casino, a cave in a thicket of forsythia
By Our ReadersLove is when I am concerned with your relationship with your own life, rather than with your relationship to mine. . . . There must be a commitment to each other’s well-being. Most people who say they have a commitment don’t; they have an attachment. Commitment means, “I am going to stick with you and support your experience of well-being.” Attachment means, “I am stuck without you.”
Stewart Emery
It would be so nice if we didn’t have societal inertia, history, intransigence to deal with, but that’s a dream. We’ve got a system that was primitive, evolved to an enormously sophisticated set-up and is now riding on the myths and images and reputations of the past medical tradition. We need to recognize it, understand why it is what it is, and then step by evolutionary step take it apart and put it where it needs to be.
By Sy SafranskyThere is a day in winter when warmth and wetness first come together perfectly. It is Spring, though no calendar admits it. There is a surging up. And it always seems a Sunday.
By Patricia BralleyThe real drama of his life took place as he entered the almost monastic study of his mansion — when he closed the door, he took the doorknob with him — and wrote with a creative fury that few other artists can even imagine. Even he was so busy as to hardly notice what he was doing, but in brief moments of repose he was aware of it.
By David GuyWe have found that when we begin to turn towards or face our neurosis and unpleasant situations we become involved in working with ourselves and our conflicts in a meaningful way. When we no longer run from that which we are afraid there becomes the possibility of being responsible for our projections of aggression, ignorance, and fear.
By Richard Strozzi-HecklerOnce on a time long ago in that part of the present that is hidden from general view and which lies in the unreachable future, there were two, only two beings. Where they came from I have no idea and probably they didn’t either. Who could have told them? But I am certain that they were named Mr. Nous and Mme. Ordinat.
By Franklin MillsThe airbrush paintings from this selection are available as a PDF only. Click here to download.
By Carl Evans