Descartes pondered existential questions in Belgium while lying in bed. Gauguin wandered off to paint in the sultry South Seas. I think on my feet and fear there may be trouble in paradise.
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Philosophy: What would Dr. Pangloss say?
To do is to be - Sartre
To be is to do - Kant
Dooby dooby do - Sinatra
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A small robot, upon developing a slight sense of self,
embarked on a great quest but ended up lost in a mist
of epic heroism. At times a swirling fog obscured the
sun. At times, fear eclipsed reason but the little robot
pressed on - one foot in front of the other.
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Shipwrecked by good fortune on the shore of my own
childhood, I set out to search for buried treasure. The
summer days came and went. I rode my bicycle down
to the river and watched the ships bound for Japan and
India. When at last I went to bed, my legs were heavy
but my dreams flew out the window.
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Tired of captivity, we escaped through a secret passage.
That night, hidden in tall rushes by the river, a thousand
small creatures discussed bygone times. We lay on our
backs, looking at the stars, listening.
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A great tempest of discontent drove young Jimmy
off the farm and away from Kentucky. He longed
to see strange places and to do strange things.
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A young boy flees his war ravaged town. All that
he once knew is now gone. He carries with him
only a caged songbird and a small fragment of hope.
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In a drama worthy of Shakespeare, small clouds appear
in the summer sky. They form fanciful shapes – small creatures
in a swirling tide pool, dragons doing battle. The clouds form
a great city - high walls and towers, great domed cathedrals -
a city of dreams. In a moment all is gone. The clouds break
apart, drift away and disappear.
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Summer camp. The botany lessons, the knots we learned, Thenames of the other children - all are now, in my memory, little more than the faint flicker of heat lightning. We romped through the fields and woods, we swam and we sailed, and then at night, sitting around the fire, we raised our voices in song.