The Real Beauty In Life Is That

I'm Of The Opinion That The Real Is Imagined And The Imagined Is Quite Real. The Real Is Imagined, In The Sense That We Shape Our Stories, So Anything That Even Happens On The News Gets Shaped In A Certain Way And Gets A Texture, And That The Imagined Can Be Real.

He's At Ease, His Body Sculpted To The Music, His Shoulder Searching The Other Shoulder, His Right Toe Knowing The Left Knee, The Height, The Depth, The Form, The Control, The Twist Of His Wrist, The Bend Of His Elbow, The Tilt Of His Neck, Notes Digging Into Arteries, And He Is In The Air Now, Forcing The Legs Up Beyond Muscular Memory, One Last Press Of The Thighs, An Elongation Of Form, A Loosening Of Human Contour, He Goes Higher And Is Skyheld.

I Am Of The Opinion, And Even More So The Older I Get, That It Is More Difficult To Have Hope Than It Is To Despair. And I Mean This In The Sense That In Order To Have Hope You Must Acknowledge The Despair And Then You Have To Get Beyond It. Taken From A Radio Interview Given On Bbc Radio 4's Open Book

The Stars Looked Like Nail Heads In The Sky--pull A Few Of Them Out And The Darkness Would Fall.

She Was Forever Tilted Sideways By The Notion That Pain Was Inevitable, Chance Was Cruel, And All Human Ingenuity Should Go Towards The Making Of A Good Cup Of Tea.