Days begin and end in the dead of night. They are not shaped long, in the manner of things which lead to ends — arrow, road, a person’s life on earth. They are shaped round, in the manner of things eternal and stable — sun, world, God.
Western culture is grounded in linearity—of logic, of right angled buildings, of the Christian concept of the hereafter. This morning I was invigorated during my pass through the ever compelling Whiskey River at how elemental those perceptive proclivities can be. When I consider round as the primal form, perceptions shift. Doing my work in the deliberate consciousness of roundness produces new energies, different impulses.