Blog Central

Bits of ideas and images we've just had to express lately.


August 5, 2007:

Carla and Rebecca at an intersection:

Rebecca:  Why's that guy just sitting there?  Why is he waiting for me to go?
Carla:  Maybe because he has a stop sign.
Rebecca:  But so do... oh, I don't.  Heh heh.  Well, I guess that explains his behavior.
Carla:  Mmm.  But what explains yours?


August 4, 2007: 

There are far too many people these days whose retirement plan is a sudden, massive heart attack.

                                                                                                                        Melanie West


August 1, 2007:

            Science has determined that the elemental seeds of life are scattered throughout the universe, drifting on cosmic winds until settling in hospitable soil.
             When we encounter the inhabitants of distant worlds, however different they may seem, we will be kin.  For we are all descended from the primordial explosion of being, tumbling through the universe of time into these forms now.  If only we could remember that, nothing we experience need be strange or terrible, just another version of what we could be.
                                                                                                                         Rebecca T. Dixon


July 2007:     
I see nothing admirable about being terribly busy.  It is either
a scheduling error, or a failure of the social order.
                                                                                                                                  Melanie West


June 2007:
Emptiness

I was a twister of emotion

cutting through my life

a swath of destruction.


It seemed to me to be life itself, this

intensity, as if the trouble to speak

could only be justified

by a tremendous noise.

 

Everything I encountered

yielded to my passion,

until the day I came

to the edge of life

and saw

the emptiness sourrounding

all experience.

 

It quieted me

like a divine voice

that stills the waters.

 

In the face of nothing,

all my passions seemed

a child's pretense

and every

thing, in its simplicity

stood silent, sacred

in the miracle of being

exactly what it is.


                Rebecca T. Dixon