It's All The Unwordable Things

When You Really Think About Your Hand You Begin To Realize Its Connection, To Sense The Hum Of Your Own Being Passing Through It. When We Look At A Piece Of The Universe We Should Feel The Same.

How Badly I Want That Nameless Thing! First There Must Be An Idea, A Feeling... Maybe It Was An Abstract Idea That You've Got To Find A Symbol For, Or Maybe It Was A Concrete Form That You Have To Simplify Or Distort To Meet Your Ends, But That Starting Point Must Pervade The Whole.

The Sun Enriched The Old Poles Grandly... The Mothers Expressed All Womanhood - The Big Wooden Hands Holding The Child Were So Full Of Tenderness They Had To Be Distorted Enormously In Order To Contain It All. Womanhood Was Strong In Kitwancool.

Oh, The Glory Of Growth, Silent, Mighty, Persistent, Inevitable! To Awaken, To Open Up Like A Flower To The Light Of A Fuller Consciousness!

I Think That One's Art Is A Growth Inside One. I Do Not Think One Can Explain Growth. It Is Silent And Subtle. One Does Not Keep Digging Up A Plant To See How It Grows.