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| Sidewalk drawing, May 2016 |
The stratified rock of time, layer on layer of experience, weddings and funerals, children and family, the bedrock, the permanent, was always love. The effort was for love and an expression of love, as mysterious as gravity, as electricity, as a flock of birds crossing the sky as one entity, mysterious and taken for granted; the foundation of existence was always love. Not birth or life or death or suffering, but love; we know this with age, with advancing years; the permanent is not money or possessions, it is not all the other stuff of life; it is one thing only, consistent and constant, the bedrock, the permanent, is love.
