I'm
sixty-four these days and fading, but that’s ok, longtime Buddhist sensibilities have taught me acceptance, detachment, and contentedness. Still, I would like to explain for anyone who might someday be interested to know: Who was that Stranger??
But I have always been a far outlier, and don’t expect much creative/artistic appreciation or understanding - after all, not even Van Gogh found that in his lifetime. So be it. But maybe, just maybe you, dear reader, will engage and find
something here of interest, or maybe even value?
In
1964 Simon and Garfunkel sang “And the
sign said the words of the prophets are written on the subway walls, and
tenement halls, and whispered in the sound of silence…" Not claiming
to have been a prophet, but I have struggled earnestly to shine whatever little
light I was given, and it is here that you might someday encounter a Stranger's faint cyber-echoes, if you are quiet and listen...
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