“….people who appear like metaphors somewhere further out than we do, beckoned, not driven, invented by belief, author and hero of a real dream by which our own courage and cunning are tested and tried, so that we may wonder all over again what is veritable and inevitable and possible and what it is to become whoever we may be."
- Diane Arbus, "The Full Circle"
Of course, Diane Arbus -- whom I can’t help being a little in love with, these past few weeks -- is talking about her circus freaks and crazy street preachers and tattooed strippers. But what I have to offer is this, ordinary people in the midst of their ordinary lives. It is all I have today against the inevitability of death, the wild despair and dread in the voice of one who means so much to me.
A complete and utter failure. It doesn’t help. How could it help? --- This little girl with her halo. This very serious boy. To see the movement that is not outside time, but rather woven into the fabric of the ordinary second. To see. To be the one who sees. To love them, and be separate, at the boundary stones…..