Big whorls have little whorls
Which feed on their velocity,
And little whorls have lesser whorls
And so on to viscosity. Lewis F. Richardson
Sometimes I’m very sad to mark upon a clean sheet of paper – knowing that my marks destroy something. Wouldn’t it be wonderful if we could communicate, in total accord, mind-to-mind, heart-to-heart, self-to-self, without the burdensome and cumbersome vehicle of written or spoken words? Lacking such an otherworldly way of communicating, I’ve chosen the written word as my preferred vehicle of expression. Writing things down allows one the luxury of arranging words and thoughts in an orderly finished fashion. These thoughts are but lesser whorls and have little significance except that they are a response to life.