Wednesday, July 1, 2009

On Dreams...

All men and women are born, live suffer and die; what distinguishes us one from another is our dreams, whether they be dreams about worldly or unworldly things, and what we do to make them come about... We do not choose to be born. We do not choose our parents. We do not choose our historical epoch, the country of our birth, or the immediate circumstances of our upbringing. We do not, most of us, choose to die; nor do we choose the time and conditions of our death. But within this realm of choicelessness, we do choose how we live.
-- Joseph Epstein
I would rather be ashes than dust! I would rather that my spark should burn out in a brilliant blaze than it should be stifled by dry rot. I would rather be a superb meteor, every atom of me in magnificent glow, than a sleepy and permanent planet. The proper function of man is to live, not to exist. I shall not waste my days in trying to prolong them. I shall use my time.
-- Jack London

Twenty years from now you will be more disappointed by the things that you didn't do than by the ones you did do. So throw off the bowlines. Sail away from the safe harbor. Catch the trade winds in your sails. Explore. Dream. Discover.
-- Mark Twain

I begin...

I begin as an old woman might, ancient spotted hands that have seen too many years bending gently around a pen. The words are there, just barely beyond reach, dangling temptingly like large fruit above a groundstriken and hungry herbivore. Slowly, cautiously, I write. Like honey, the words begin to flow, fingers gradually remembering their strength and purpose. Will these words be read? Will the force and passion behind them fade so that only the shallow letters are visible? Only the cruel mistress Time will tell, with her unforgiving notation of seconds, minutes, days, and years.