“Justice is love on legs spilling over into the public sphere.” – Cornel West
To write without ceasing is the continuous undercurrent of my life. The text may take many forms – in my body, on trees that have been sacrificed to be born again for what one can only hope is a sacred purpose.
Some times there are long stretches between words, phrases, stanzas, paragraphs, chapters. The windows of this market, gallery, meeting place papered over. Remodeling, will reopen soon.
And I amass black type in great piles, images in smooth curves and harsh angles, bringing us sacred messages. Rumi said love is the way the great mystery tells us what’s important. Art is the way we tell each other.
The sacred is what’s possible when we all have what we need to show up in purpose and to return to it when we are drawn off center. I am a call to the sacred in everyone.
None of us have lived in the world we are creating, this is all faith-based work this speculative fiction. These stories are our stories. These stories are love. Treat them tenderly.
If you see what springs forth from this in the library down the street, in your minds eye, in the eye of your neighbor on the train…you have seen a bit of justice – a bit of love in public.
Thank you Stewart for the request that I post this.