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Showing posts from March, 2019

Mothering Sunday—The maternalizing of matter and the materializing of the mother”—A poetic, supreme fiction for our age

Immediate tactile, visceral answers in the breeze—the mysticism of wide open eyes

She—the moon—listens to my complaints like the good companion she is & comforts me surely with her light.

A few photos of, and some idle thoughts in and on, Cherry Hinton Chalk Pits, Arthur Machen and Pink Floyd . . .

Faithfully doing my duty as an inspector of rain-storms on an early spring walk through Grantchester Meadows and along the River Cam

Forget sacrifice — for Lent and forever more — the question is how to remain faithful to all the impossible, necessary resurrections

A few photos taken on an early spring stroll over to Grantchester across the meadows

“You have a donkey, so have I”—the only real possible path to peace—communication