Posts
In my search for the soul of the city, I saw school busses playing hookey.
I saw a warehouse in which boxes and bales and barrels brought from all points of the world came to rest on shelves so men could break them down into parts and parcels to mete out to the masses, goods and favors.
I delved deep into the vortex of the city, finding in my journey an abandoned cement mixer.
This high wuthering height of Humanness, so far from the storm blasted heath of my youth, it makes me proud that we withstand.
It's adventurous, it's dangerous, its a Dag Day in the big city, I do think so.
It's adventurous, it's dangerous, its a Dag Day in the big city, I do think so.
2 comments:
Excellent post Dag.
The slowness of walking provides the witness of time. Thinking, walking, more thinking, more walking...Grandma, mesquite trees, ice tea in a jelly jar, hummingbirds, I forget what I remember sometimes...or is it, I remember what I have forgotten sometimes...I forget.
"This high wuthering height of Humanness, so far from the storm blasted heath of my youth, it makes me proud that we withstand."
Yes. Proud. Very proud. And humble at the same time. Thank you.
I have a series of photos from you that I will post as soon as an occasion arise that might bring them to a larger audience.
I thank You. They are heart-rending. Beautiful. They are beautiful. Thank you very much for that.
Dag.
Post a Comment