There is something magical and mystical; even primal, about flickering candle light, as it bounces, reflects, illumines and distorts, momentarily, the visages, faces, and countenances of those assembled around it, talking, gesturing, and thinking, meditatively.
In such candle-lit, probing, sensitivity sessions, we had engaged weekly, following high school graduation in 1969: boys and girls; seniors and juniors; drop-outs and graduates.
By and through this quiet, discreet, collective catharsis, we had thereby sought to extract the final draughts of sweetness from the dregs of that fine vintage wine we had distilled for the good, as students in the throes of the movement, as we applied it. We were saying "good-bye" to our "comrades in arms," without ever having to really say to "good-bye " to them in finality.
Tuesday, December 2, 2014
CANDLES
CANDLES
There is something magical and mystical; even primal, about flickering candle light, as it bounces, reflects, illumines and distorts, momentarily, the visages, faces, and countenances of those assembled around it, talking, gesturing, and thinking, meditatively.
In such candle-lit, probing, sensitivity sessions, we had engaged weekly, following high school graduation in 1969: boys and girls; seniors and juniors; drop-outs and graduates.
By and through this quiet, discreet, collective catharsis, we had thereby sought to extract the final draughts of sweetness from the dregs of that fine vintage wine we had distilled for the good, as students in the throes of the movement, as we applied it. We were saying "good-bye" to our "comrades in arms," without ever having to really say to "good-bye " to them in finality.
There is something magical and mystical; even primal, about flickering candle light, as it bounces, reflects, illumines and distorts, momentarily, the visages, faces, and countenances of those assembled around it, talking, gesturing, and thinking, meditatively.
In such candle-lit, probing, sensitivity sessions, we had engaged weekly, following high school graduation in 1969: boys and girls; seniors and juniors; drop-outs and graduates.
By and through this quiet, discreet, collective catharsis, we had thereby sought to extract the final draughts of sweetness from the dregs of that fine vintage wine we had distilled for the good, as students in the throes of the movement, as we applied it. We were saying "good-bye" to our "comrades in arms," without ever having to really say to "good-bye " to them in finality.
