Interlude: In the Thoughts of Wudei'a (part 1; another one for Andala)

[vmurther]

My front door opens on a back street in Morocco, where you can hear the calls to prayer like a faint summer wind, lost in the yellow peeling drab of the buildings. But the doorframe, it is like a mouth that speaks words from Heaven, for never does it open on the same place twice. All who pass through it are sublime, for this shop is not so easy to

Comments

Michael's Thoughts

[hansandersen]

Scent, huh?

My shots are all about touch - the grit of the ground beans; the rasp of metal fittings, the shuddering vibrations of the machine;

(it always comes back to the shuddering vibrations of the Machine)

You could blind me, cut out my toungue, shatter my eardrums, and fill my nose with wax, and as long as my hands were free I'd still make a mean espresso. But never as good as what Wudei'a makes.

Is that the difference between artifice and art?

[tyratae]

who's simon?

m...
this is a taunting first hint and a whole circle all at once, rich with potential and energy; it hurts to reach the end & not keep going. you, at least you in your author-function, are the biggest tease i've ever met. & you aren't selling these pieces for millions & living better than gaimon why?

[tyratae]

why? See hans' question about artifice and art. In answering two questions, artifice is of and for this world; art's construct is of another world, built in the framework of the soul and shown only by accident through the poor means that this plane provides... the reward is in the synergy of sharing that part of self that cannot be described, except through art.

[gaaneden]

Thank you for the memory.

[andala]

This was beautiful. How I long to have a book of yours on my shelf, in the rotation. Why do so few LJers write with such intensity and passion? Thank you Veronica, I can always count on you. :)