Sunday, May 19, 2013


"Foothills Farmhouse", oil.
by Don Gray

     When I look in the mirror, I don’t see sunshine and wind, and yet, in a sense, that’s what’s there. The atoms that swirl in sunshine and wind are the same ones that shape my bones and blood. The atoms in my bloodstream were made as many billions of years ago as those in the sun I see rising outside my house this morning, and the timeless winds are no older than the calcium I carry inside me. I am an inseparable piece of the single, immeasurable universe, as are sunshine and wind. We mix and mingle as surely as the breezes across our yards, as surely as the seamless rays of sunshine. The separate person I seem to see in the mirror is no more separate than one swirl of the wind is from another, or one shaft of sunlight is from another. We shine and swirl together, sunshine and wind and I.

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