May I be as a sunbeam into your dark forest. May you dance in the glade.

If I can see a Heaven in the subject, then will you in its photo.

I write for you to read to be healed.

Well, the woman did come and the woman did go, speaking not of Michelangelo – but only of herself. With apologies to Eliot.

A man is acting hatefully to most around him, especially to his son and his own father. Filial and paternal impiety. The sage when told remarks that the man has “lost the plot.” What plot? The

The so-called flying white is not the black on the white, as elsewhere on the painting, but the black with the white. There they are one. I think of them as a perfect marriage, their mutual

The flying white: Where the power of the black, the yang, of the initial stroke of the brush, is tempered by the gentleness, the yin, of the canvas. As the male's strong impetuousness, his aggression, is

The exquisitely holy moment when bow and string, key and string, breath and reed, breath and brass become one. And we in response become one with the One.

Everyone's actions are always guided. But all too often we also are guided to not like them.

The belief that I have a Soul relates to the Highest chakra, to communion with God. For it is from my Soul that I Aspire to God, as God has so Inspired my Soul to Aspire.