Oh Well, I Will Say Here, Knowing

I Heard Words And Words Full Of Holes Aching.

What Has Happened Makes The World. Live On The Edge, Looking.

I Did However Used To Think, You Know, In The Woods Walking, And As A Kid Playing In The Woods, That There Was A Kind Of Immanence There — That Woods, And Places Of That Order, Had A Sense, A Kind Of Presence, That You Could Feel; That There Was Something Peculiarly, Physically Present, A Feeling Of Place Almost Conscious ... Like God. It Evoked That.

Writing Is The Same As Music. It’s In How You Phrase It, How You Hold Back The Note, Bend It, Shape It, Then Release It. And What You Don’t Play Is As Important As What You Do Say.

Form Is Never More Than An Extension Of Content.