Terence MckennaA man moved near a river and wanting to find a way to travel across the water, spent 10 years inventing type of levitation that would allow him to float across it. Buddha who is preaching in his town was confronted by this man, who said “Look master look what I have achieved. I can walk across the water.
And Buddha said "But the ferry only costs a nickel
New, Lost, Rare, Misunderstood & Singular Plants
The Passionate Gardener By Rudolf Borchardt
You’re like that thing that happens when you look at something bright and there is a white spot in your vision that you can’t look directly at.
Without warning, David was visited by an exact vision of death: a long hole in the ground, no wider than your body, down which you are drawn while the white faces above recede. You try to reach them but your arms are pinned. Shovels put dirt into your face. There you will be forever, in an upright position, blind and silent, and in time no one will remember you, and you will never be called by any angel. As strata of rock shift, your fingers elongate, and your teeth are distended sideways in a great underground grimace indistinguishable from a strip of chalk. And the earth tumbles on, and the sun expires, and unaltering darkness reigns where once there were stars.
John Updike
The art world is not immune from criticism, when it comes to artistic practise and the effects art production has on the environment. Sometimes making a statement actually damages the environment. N.E. Thing Co. Paint into Earth, SFU, Vancouver, B.C. (1966-68) entailed pouring toxic paints into the earth, an irresponsible yet effective way of communicating an idea.
The Fascination of What’s Difficult
The Fascination of What’s Difficult by William Butler Yeats | Poetry Foundation
BY WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS
The fascination of what’s difficult
Has dried the sap out of my veins, and rent
Spontaneous joy and natural content
Out of my heart. There’s something ails our colt
That must, as if it had not holy blood
Nor on Olympus leaped from cloud to cloud,
Shiver under the lash, strain, sweat and jolt
As though it dragged road metal. My curse on plays
That have to be set up in fifty ways,
On the day’s war with every knave and dolt,
Theatre business, management of men.
I swear before the dawn comes round again
I’ll find the stable and pull out the bolt.The World Is Too Much With Us
The World Is Too Much With Us by William Wordsworth | Poetry Foundation
BY WILLIAM WORDSWORTH
The world is too much with us; late and soon,
Getting and spending, we lay waste our powers;—
Little we see in Nature that is ours;
We have given our hearts away, a sordid boon!
This Sea that bares her bosom to the moon;
The winds that will be howling at all hours,
And are up-gathered now like sleeping flowers;
For this, for everything, we are out of tune;
It moves us not. Great God! I’d rather be
A Pagan suckled in a creed outworn;
So might I, standing on this pleasant lea,
Have glimpses that would make me less forlorn;
Have sight of Proteus rising from the sea;
Or hear old Triton blow his wreathèd horn.
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