It is a long way from here to there and much is lost and gained between the two. How much can I lose before I am not me? When I lose my way, am I still me? While crossing over to the other side and I meet a soul face-to-face, which of us is coming and which is going? If I were a beacon on the face of a cosmic train pulling the pass of a universe divide, would it help or hinder the other directions? Can I be a light that shows a way? How do I know what I do not know? How can I be from where I did not start? Is there a beginning to the end? If I bored my way into the center of the sacred place and inhaled with such force as to suck the horizon into my being, then exhaled with such force as to register the difference, who would make the measure? Is an implosion an internal force that sets the motion for an external birth?
How do I commune with a confluence, or a range of snow capped mountains, or a wooded stretch of canopy from which sunlight streaks in pointed shafts to the leaf bed below? If I am quiet enough, can I hear the earth hum? If I breathe deep the air of nature's vision, can I see the inside of a grain of sand? Art has many reasons and speaks clearly of them all. Art will not lie to you, art is a key to truth, but it is you who must ask of its content and meaning.