Our age is retrospective. It builds the sepulchres of the fathers. It writes biographies, histories, and criticism. The foregoing generation beheld nature and God and nature face to face; we through their eyes. Why should we not also enjoy an original relation to the universe? Why should we not have a poetry and philosophy of insight and not of tradition, and a religion by revelation to us, and not the history of theirs? Embosomed for a season in nature, whose floods of life stream around and through us, and invites us by the powers they supply, to action action proportioned to nature, why should we grope among the dry bones of the past, or put the living generation into masquerade out of its failed wardrobe? The sun shines to-day also. There is more wool and flux in the fields. There are new lands, new men, new thoughts. Let us demand our own works and laws and worship.(emerson)
Holy is the Qua moment. Tai Chi kid submerged into the Greeley woods landscape. The sun licks his face. It's warmth an orgiastic feeling, sexual in nature. He stills into his breath. The sound of the forest becomes vibrant. Everything dynamic, alive...





