Carving Symbols

Doodle drama, ah the drama, the unfolding play! Information versus entertainment. Keep them stupid and happy. Children, of all ages, are amused by the idiot box. Give up your consciousness. Use the remote.

We watch all the feelings, sensations and thoughts that arose upon having that event happen.

Absolved by rain, the deluge.

"Keep your hand moving," whispered the writing teacher. They were strange. All of them.

The teacher in Tang Dynasty clothing filled with dragons, yin-yang mysteries of balance,

becoming, a Phoenix rising, a crying crane flying through mist covered mountains while emperors danced with concubines inside Forbidden Cities' red lacquered

emotional curiosities where visions of detached ebullient phosphorus streams dove into silence,

the abstraction of tonal quality in extreme bliss, a manifestation of phenomenal superior detective analysis and forty questions of the soul examining marketing examinations at 7:00 p.m. followed by utter exhaustion.

Leo and the clown escaped into the hills.

“We know so much and understand so little. People are more affected by how they feel than what they understand."

Bright star Leo continued.

“On day one my teacher said, ‘I only want you to bring two things to class. Your ears.’”

They sharpened sticks on stones, carving paleo-Leo-lithic cave paintings on soft clay walls.

Leo edged circles, rectangles, triangles, curves, lines and dots. He carved his name backwards for future historians and archeologists to get the gist, EOL, or, as an unemployed academic financial analyst now a linguist on Wailing Wall Street would, could, should declare, “English On Line!”

Metta.