Solar flares affect our everyday lives in all kinds of mundane ways. They affect satellites, they affect our emotions, and so on, but they also affect the nature of the light that is coming to us, which is kind of the way that the DNA unfolds. And on those levels hardly anyone really understands all of this, and I don't either. I just know that what is going on in the Sun is very important.
In no way can it be uttered, as can other things, which one can learn. Rather, from out of a full, co-existential dwelling with the thing itself - as when a spark, leaping from the fire, flares into light - so it happens, suddenly, in the soul, there to grow, alone with itself.
Nothing is forever in the theatre. Whatever it is, it's here, it flares up, burns hot, and then it's gone.
We know all along that time is squeezing us into a corner while we mentally rocket to each new star that flares across our sky, and yet we can't help ourselves.
Sex means nothing--just the moment of ecstasy, that flares and dies in minutes.
Before you sweat the logistics of focus: first, care. Care intensely. . . . Obsessing over the slipperiness of focus, bemoaning the volume of those devil "distractions," and constantly reassessing which shiny new "system" might make your life suddenly seem more sensible - these are all terrifically useful warning flares that you may be suffering from a deeper, more fundamental problem. . . . Know in your heart that what you're making or doing matters. . . First, care. Then, as you'll happily and unavoidably discover, all that "focus" business has a peculiar way of taking care of itself.
A bizarrerie of fires, cunabulum of light, it moved with a deft, almost dainty deliberation, phasing into and out of existence like a storm-shot piece of evening; or perhaps the darkness between the flares was more akin to its truest nature swirl of black ashes assembled in prancing cadence to the lowing note of desert wind down the arroyo behind buildings as empty yet filled as the pages of unread books or stillnesses between the notes of a song.
Soldiers of the American Revolution fought that 18th century war with heavy muskets. In the early 20th century, we kids fought it every Fourth of July not only with exploding powder and shimmering flares, but with all of our senses.
Fluted sleeves or any sleeve that flares out before coming in again at the wrist are very feminine and a great way to distract from the dreaded 'bingo wings. '
It's very dangerous to put astronauts on a moon base where there's radiation, solar flares and micro meteorites. It'd be much better to put robots on the moon and have them mentally connected to astronauts on the Earth.
Sometimes, a flame can be utterly extinguished. Sometimes, a flame can shrink and waver, but sometimes a flame refuses to go out. It flares up from the faintest ember to illuminate the darkness, to burn in spite of overwhelming odds.
Watching a peaceful death of a human being reminds us of a falling star; one of a million lights in a vast sky that flares up for a brief moment only to disappear into the endless night forever.
