"Antaeus magazine wanted me to write a piece for their issue about nature. I told them I couldn’t write about nature but that I’d write them a little piece about getting lost and all the profoundly good aspects of being lost—the immense fresh feeling of really being lost. I said there that my definition of magic in the human personality, in fiction and in poetry, is the ultimate level of attentiveness. Nearly everyone goes through life with the same potential perceptions and baggage, whether it’s marriage, children, education, or unhappy childhoods, whatever; and when I say attentiveness I don’t mean just to reality, but to what’s exponentially possible in reality. I don’t think, for instance, that Márquez is pushing it in One Hundred Years of Solitude—that was simply his sense of reality. The critics call this magic realism, but they don’t understand the Latin world at all. Just take a trip to Brazil. Go into the jungle and take a look around. This old Chippewa I know—he’s about seventy-five years old—said to me, “Did you know that there are people who don’t know that every tree is different from every other tree?” This amazed him. Or don’t know that a nation has a soul as well as a history, or that the ground has ghosts that stay in one area. All this is true, but why are people incapable of ascribing to the natural world the kind of mystery that they think they are somehow deserving of but have never reached? This attentiveness is your main tool in life, and in fiction, or else you’re going to be boring. As Rimbaud said, which I believed very much when I was nineteen and which now I’ve come back to, for our purposes as artists, everything we are taught is false—everything."
Shoestring oasis of wild palms, fiery red in this infrared photograph, boreders the fault north of the Imperial Valley. Movement of the plates has ground the boundary rock into a fine clay known as “gouge,” which forms a subterranean dam. Groundwater trapped on the uphill side produces the striking line of vegetation- a fragile manifestation of the titanic forces constantly reshaping the restless earth. National Geographic, January 1973
Russian photographer Katerina Plotnikova creates, what she calls ‘another tale about wonderland’. The various photographs bring forth a beautifully shot series that includes images of human/wild animal interactions and whimsical fashions. Evoking a mythical, fairy-tale w
"So often we think of freedom as absolute individual autonomy, the completely unfettered. But to be free means to be free with some purpose. Freedom seems to be a culmination rather than a beginning, an achieved state of affairs. Freedom is often contrasted with necessity, the compulsive force…