Lost

When does the path we walk on lock around our feet? When does the road become a river with only one destination? Death waits for us all in Samara. But can Samara be avoided?

The Winter Palace sleeps in a cold blue dawn of stillness. Oh that it could sleep forever like this, frozen in time. Hard is the soil. Still is the air Gentle the sky And when the morning breaks that it should stay undisturbed. Oh morning do not come and bring your horror. But morning broke…

“Let us go to the shore; there the waves will kiss our feet. With mysterious sadness the stars will shine down on us.” Aleksey Pleshcheyev (1825-1893)

“There is a mode of vital experience — experience of space and time, of the self and others, of life’s possibilities and perils — that is shared by men and women all over the world today. I will call this body of experience “modernity.” To be modern is to find ourselves in an environment that…

Seize today, for none of our tomorrows are guaranteed.

Everything around us, this day to day existence, stops us from being who we really are.