I am mystic, thief, madman, all that, considerably more, never begging, always taken what is arrayed before me favor curried, passage guaranteed coins gathered, stored so there are none to cover the eyes or pay the ferryman’s wages. I can turn wine to water and hide fish in the midst of loaves, the trick is to distract you so the order is reversed, a sleight unseen. I am truly the prodigal son vaudevillian and fall guy and the spikes are a bitch but the view is something to behold.
Somewhere in the world at this very moment, something remarkable is being laid to ruin. It is our nature to tear down what we cannot understand, what we hold different, what does not comport with our present view of how things ought to be. Somewhere in the world at this very moment something remarkable is being born, is being created, is arising out of an idea, a thought, an emotion. We are all somewhere in the world at this very moment.
There are moments he said, when everything is suddenly clear and obvious to me. But they slip away and their shadows quickly fade away. She said if you stop looking for the fog the clarity might linger besides, how do you know what is clear and what is not.