Tuesday, February 04, 2003

Slow poison. This life that blinks back. Intense clarity and utter confusion. On the train to Bangalore.The smoky frame of an art film. Station in the middle of nowhere. The spark of a match, a moment of shared harmony. The call of the muezzin from a green distance. Fields of tall, bright sunflowers. Endless horizon.

'Ephemeral'...I love the word. The aura that it lends impermanence. The illusion of beauty wound around illusion. The wind in the willow.
I love a lot of words. Just for the way they sound. Like the bells in the temple. And the brook outside my tent at Beas. And the pigeons outside my windows.

Chiaroscuro, phantasmagoria, inamorata, chutzpah, dilettante, silhouette, angst....