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| "Bougainvillea in the Alley", oil, by Kevin Inman |
Every
Thursday is recycle day in our neighborhood, but no day – no moment – misses a
chance to recycle all things, even all thoughts. All the bones in my body are
built from second-hand atoms
that have been recycled innumerable times over
billions of years. My skin is formed from infinitesimal flecks of matter that
have been used and reused by the universe since it started eons ago, and the
blood that brings life to me is made of reprocessed atoms as old as the stars. Even
my thoughts, those sparks of intelligence I foolishly call “mine”, are simply
secondhand ideas shared and passed down by countless numbers of people since
prehistoric times. There’s never a new thought, just thoughts that have been
used and loved and enhanced and shined up for centuries, and finally given as
gifts to me, to use and care for and then confer on others to love and use with
good sense and discretion, and then pass on again.
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