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Essays 


It's Friday night. Scott Rosenberg and I light candles for the occasion. I have to remind myself I need to get my body and my shadow back into one. The problem is that the shadow was larger this morning and now with a smaller one, they don't match.


 

Victor Masayevsa brings to my attention the stories of Hopi clowns as they tumble to earth, but then decides not to tell me the entire story. I am confused by his ambivalence. I try to understand. We all live with contradictions, don't we? What to do with my aching body ?




While the embers in the fireplace continued to burn that evening, John McDaid elaborated a theory that attempted to explain how the theory of relativity, is only relative to itself. I decide to retire to my room, amidst the most intense migraine brought about by the relative altitude of 9000 feet; not the conversation. If anything, it's all those wonderful new found colleagues, such as Mark Petrakis, Jo Carson, Scott McCloud, Harry Mott, Mark Frost, Joe Lambert and Nina Mullen, who have kept me going. Through them I found energy where none was left.



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