Chubmeister 5000

Encountered this late-in-life prose poem by Czeslaw Milosz while kicking around different epigraphs for my book; now hearing a voice say "you can stop worrying ... you did what was assigned to you" at age 90 is officially a life goal: https://t.co/jby9VlDiuy

For the human race, the gift of thought and emotion created both the glory of independence and the punishment of isolation; on one hand the dichotomy made us proud, on the other lonely. It was the loneliness that proved our undoing. It became our punishment of punishments. It so perverted our instincts that we became strangers to ourselves—the true... See more

Suppose that at the entrance to heaven there is a scale—not a scale to weigh good and bad deeds—but a scale to measure joy. Suppose our passage into the next life will not be determined by the number of souls saved, sermons preached, or holiness pursued. Just joy.

You made it this far. Thank you kind stranger for believing in the power of artistry. I am not a fan of marketing, being on our phone, promoting brands of any kind. Please let us throw out phones into the ocean, and return to trusting strangers, and believing that nothing is out to get you.

We all deserve healing. Kindness. Silence. Reflection. And... See more

We moved in when the lilacs were flowering and spent the summer tracking what would become the album Lavender .