I am a sur le motif painter, always in-the-field, with a French easel that folds up into a … - James Howard Kunstler

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On the day the world ends A bee circles a clover, A fisherman mends a glimmering net.

James Howard Kunstler

I am a sur le motif painter, always in-the-field, with a French easel that folds up into a box, with backpack straps on it. Many of the sites I haunt are desolately beautiful. Few other people go there. I am gloriously alone, unmolested, and absorbed in attempting to see what I am looking at.

Beautiful, Desolately, Fields, Folds, People, Sites

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America does not want change, except from the cash register at Wal-Mart.

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A land full of places that are not worth caring about may soon be a nation and a way of life that is not worth defending.

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We don't need gold plated highways. We don't need zoning commissions which penalize offices at home and promote car commutes.

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Forget [Le Corbusier ]. Forget Modernism. Forget yesterdays' tomorrow.

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If it happens that the human race doesn't make it, then the fact that we were here once will not be altered, that once upon a time we peopled this astonishing blue planet, and wondered intelligently at everything about it and the other things who lived here with us on it, and that we celebrated the beauty of it in music and art, architecture, literature, and dance, and that there were times when we approached something godlike in our abilities and aspirations. We emerged out of depthless mystery, and back into mystery we returned,and in the end the mystery is all there is.

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