Like the website that hosts it, this blog is only concerned with using art and brief texts to uncover the bias and other limitations of thought conditioned by memory and tradition, thus also revealing how this largely unacknowledged tribal egotism that affects all human beings creates and sustains the systemic disorder and violence of the world in which we all live.

Without a radical awakening to the immense distance between our mental and social reality and the truth, we are condemned to continue living in the same cruel division, conflict, and sorrow to which we ourselves sustain with our personal memories, thoughts, and desires.

The Little Creek Begins to Dry

The heat during these first weeks of summer has been intense, and the rains scant, so I was not surprised to see a significantly reduced volume of water in this beautiful tiny tributary of Taughannock Creek that I so much like to visit. It always makes me a bit melancholy to see the rapturous tide of Spring and Summer life stemmed, but I felt a peculiar distress in knowing that the fertilizer runoff from nearby agricultural fields has been producing all along a thick carpet of green algae that has choked the waterway annulling or diminishing other forms of life. There seem to be far fewer flowers, butterflies, and birds than in previous years, and all around less color.
(Related to this leakage of fertilizers and pesticides into the area creeks, I should also note that, yesterday eve, Kim and I went for a swim at Cayuga lake and saw the first official sign warning the public about highly toxic algae blooms. The water seemed still clean enough, but we were only a few feet away from the place in which Taughannock creek empties into the lake.)
Despite the chemical attack and the advancing dryness, the creek remains splendid, so I thoroughly enjoyed the long morning I spent there last week looking around, listening to the silence, and attempting to do some justice to its fundamental charm and the strange characters and artifacts I find and portray there.
While processing these images I happened to be listening to the recording of the Haendel Keyboard Suite No, 2 in F made by Sviatoslav Richter, the great Russian pianist. The music seemed to go well with the images and the strangely sweet melancholy I felt while taking them, so HERE is the link to the piece in case you want to listen to it while looking at them.             


The Little Treasures of Solitude

What Is Necessary