It is better to be ignorant than to know so many things that are not so.
In Dublin, I happened upon one of the many public institutions, free of charge to enter. In this case, the National Library of Ireland. What a treasure! It was serious inside. Quiet, like a library, ought to be. I didn't go far, when I noticed a special exhibition for the poetry of William Butler Yeats. [...]
You may be an artist, a writer, a someone, a nobody, a bricklayer, or a masseuse, but in the end we are all historians. Whether we leave a record of ourselves, through a drawing, a novel, short story, essay, a cornerstone in a building, or touch someone with a a healing hand, it's all a [...]
In the morning, I drove by a bunch of pale yellow daffodils, sitting beside the road, in the culvert, all alone, they stood out in their vanity, among the weeds. Further down the road, the gate to the cemetery was wide open, on this cloudy day. Gray stones popped up against green grass. Littered with small [...]
April is gone. Now, it is May. Splashes of color paint the landscape, in the pouring rain. Garlands of pink cherry blossoms hang down against green trees, like ornaments, on a proscenium stage. Tiny yellow leaves appear, on trees, as babies, waiting to mature. Sunshine jolts my moody spirit, where deep thoughts reside. It illuminates [...]