The World Cracks Open For Those Willing

The Longer You Are In A Place, The More You Get Under Its Layers.

Travel Releases Spontaneity. You Become A Godlike Creature Full Or Choice, Free To Visit The Stately Pleasure Domes, Make Love In The Morning, Sketch A Bell Tower, Read A History Of Byzantium, Stare For One Hour At The Face Of Leonardo Da Vinci's 'madonna Dei Fusi.' You Open, As In Childhood, And--for A Time--receive This World. There's Visceral Aspect, Too--the Huntress Who Is Free. Free To Go, Free To Return Home Bringing Memories To Lay On The Hearth.

The World Cracks Open For Those Willing To Take A Risk.

Like Fanning Through A Deck Of Cards, My Mind Flashes On The Thousand Chances, Trivial To Profound, That Converged To Re-create This Place. Any Arbitrary Turning Along The Way And I Would Be Elsewhere; I Would Be Different. Where Did The Expression "a Place In The Sun" First Come From? My Rational Thought Process Cling Always To The Idea Of Free Will, Random Event; My Blood, However, Streams Easily Along A Current Of Fate.

There Is No Technique, There Is Just The Way To Do It. Now, Are We Going To Measure Or Are We Going To Cook?