letters

. . . spent the weekend (Thursday - Monday) in architectural spaces carefully constructed with the sound of the word & the sound of the sound in heart&mind . . . not with the skilled, trained artist . . . with the young in the midst of discovering/exploring what the artist is in them . . . . . . they take the stage . . . a precious instrument . . . to listen to the before . . . prepared they arrive and humbled they depart informing the next . . . . . . dear are those spaces where we shape our thoughts and words and actions . . . attentive to the colour, the texture, the breath, the palette of relationship, the character . . . the place we question and celebrate again & again . . . over and over . . . what is the meaning . . . this life . . . lest we forget . . . . . . from further away a traveller writes:

hi I am in Berlin, Germany. I still cannot believe that I am in Europe. It is a very overalming experience here. Everything in berlin is in the construction burying over the past history. but the trees, the trees speak. the trees speak something or ... it is very hard to explain.. the trees have characters or know something or very alive or smiling... I saw the wall- the berlin wall. I do not know what to say . . . (quoted from a email without permission)