February 15th, 2017

"Bless These, Our Circumstances." -- Nancy Wood

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During the past month,i hve been ill with the flu.  I have had empitnee, silence, low or no energy, and a strange sense of unreakut (which niggt be glimmerings of reality)  My perception of time, self, soace, and reality have shifted bak and forth with startling suddenness.  At the same time i have been reading a lot of ficturn set on the Navajo reservation.  I've been reading some Blake, oartucykarkt "The Marriage of Heaven and Hell." In this latter "book" i find the line:"If the doors of perception were cleansed, we would see things as they are -- infinite."

In one of his "memorable fantasies" an angel takes Blake on a tour of hell which is poirtraud as rather Danteish..  But when the angel "flees" and Blake is left alone. that image of  hell vanishes and Blake firds himself sitting serenely on the banik of a moonlit river.  Then Blake shows the angel a vision of heaven as an insane monkey house.

The angel accuses Blake of "imposing" on him.  Blake answers, yeah, let's nit imoise on one another.
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