This Morning Long Ago

Doctor DeGroot was puzzled. “Most of my patients are professionals: accountants, engineers, attorneys, business executives. One’s a mathematician. Something they all seem to share in common–other than having cancer, I mean–is that they think there must be a solution to their situation. I’m their doctor, so they expect me to provide it.”

“Why do you think that is?”

“I’m not sure, but I think a lot has to do with their professions. They’re solution-oriented people. They get paid to provide answers. Cancer is a problem. So there must be a solution. They want clear-cut answers. They don’t like ambiguity. But you, in contrast, seem to be comfortable with it. Why is that?”

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Light Storm

Light Storm – Acrylic/canvas – 32 x 40 inches.

Storms usually visit us from the heavens, with ominous clouds and rough winds, growling thunder and lightning flashes. What if a storm happened in reverse, that it brought us a torrent of light instead of rain? What if the storm arrived not only from above, but out of the earth as well?

That was the premise of this painting. It provoked surprising reactions. After seeing it, for example, a few friends expressed concern about the health of my mind. Why, I didn’t know. The storm seemed perfectly plausible to me.
The painting was purchased by a psychic healer who lived in the state Georgia, USA. He later died, I was told, from the bite of a poisonous spider. What became of the painting I don’t know.

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World of Wonders

If you are a lucky child, the world is full of magic. Or, better said, the world is magic. By lucky, I mean that you are loved and cared for. You’re safe. Except for the natural hazards of childhood, like the thugs and bullies you encounter in your neighborhood and at school (and whom you will have to deal with throughout the rest of your life), you are not afraid of the world. You have not known hunger, or had to flee from war. If you are fortunate, you don’t have to endure being torn away from your parents at the southern border of a police state and thrown into a detention camp. You’re a lucky child, even when you don’t get along with your parents, or with your brothers and sisters. You have a home at least, and they are part of it, like it or not.

By magic, I mean that even if you are a lucky child, it’s necessary, now and then, to escape from Life, to enter into the lives of strangers. Fairy tales allow you to do this. So do movies.

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