Most humans live lives of digital distress—the disinterestedness
of the omni-interested. Attention now is
given in bytes and Nano seconds are discovered to measure it. Oh where have my compatriots gone who could
spend hours on the mountaintop and coming down find life in the valley below? There is a smell and feel to earth, a sound
to life and a taste to seeing that is new around every bend of the forest creek—a
trail now lost. Oh to prick one cell of
their soul with the Divinity of the earth’s tale of The Ancient of Days—and at
last I would sigh successfully that I had taught Art to those I am charged with.
No comments:
Post a Comment