“In a swamp, as in meditation, you begin to glimpse how elusive, how inherently insubstantial, how fleeting our thoughts are, our identities. There is magic in this moist world, in how the mind lets go, slips into sleepy water, circles and nuzzles the banks of palmetto and wild iris, how it seeps across dreams, smears them into the upright world, rots the wood of treasure chests, welcomes the body home.” WorldMindHomeDreamBodyWaterMeditationMagicIdentityLetting GoWoodsCirclesTreasureChestsSlipsOur ThoughtsGlimpseFleetingElusiveSleepySwampsIrisesTreasure Chests Book:Stirring the Mud: On Swamps, Bogs, and Human Imagination Source: Stirring the Mud: On Swamps, Bogs, and Human Imagination
“When you're on the street, and, as you're walking along, a woman turns the corner going away from you, and for an instant you have a glimpse of the side of her face, of the gesture of her shoulder, the shape of her body, and you are committed... You are in love for an instant, or your senses are rocked for an instant. That person then disappears and is lost to you forever.” PersonsBodyFacesTurnsLostSidesForeverStreetsWalkingShapesCommittedCornersDisappearSensesShouldersInstantGoing AwayGesturesGlimpseAway From You Author:Joel Meyerowitz