Back home again. Stopped in my tracks. Arrested. No more flying. No more driving. What a luxury to be still once again.
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To Kim Mosley ’s “Meteor” on the Eve of the Election Ooh, coming right at us the slam! It hurls us upside down and sideways splas... -
Pulse The pulsing sounds of color reverberate in kaleidoscopic bits that scatter in pieces of beat, strands of band, shards of bard,... -
I was going to write something about the difference between grieving and compassion. If we are all suffering, as Buddha surmised, then w...
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