Memory, Even In The Rest Of Us,

Walking Itself Is The Intentional Act Closest To The Unwilled Rhythms Of The Body, To Breathing And The Beating Of The Heart. It Strikes A Delicate Balance Between Working And Idling, Being And Doing. It Is A Bodily Labor That Produces Nothing But Thoughts, Experiences, Arrivals.

In The Aftermath Of 9/11, People Had Not A Good Time, But A Deep, Profound, Rousing Time, Woke Up From Their Ennui And Isolation And Trivialization To Feel Engaged, Connected, Purposeful, Ready To Give, To Engage, To Care, To Learn.

Joy Doesn't Betray But Sustains Activism. And When You Face A Politics That Aspires To Make You Fearful, Alienated And Isolated, Joy Is A Fine Initial Act Of Insurrection.

Sometimes It Seems That The Fate Of The World Is Decided Entirely In The Ether Of Electronic Communications And Corporate Backroom Deals.

People Rescue Each Other. They Build Shelters And Community Kitchens And Ways To Deal With Lost Children And Eventually Rebuild One Way Or Another.