'Anyone moderately familiar with the rigours of composition will not need to be told the story in detail; how he wrote and it seemed good; read and it seemed vile; corrected and tore up; cut out; put in....' Read more →
A writer must travel, it is usually said. A writer must leave his desk, discover other cultures and so on and so on. A writer must not be like Kant, who designed an entire moral system without ever leaving his small town. Read more →
Rio de Janeiro bears the weight of this karma. It lost its title as capital of the colony, the Empire and the Republic and transformed from the Marvellous City into the divided city, split between entrenched poverty and a cosmopolitan middle class, surrounded by beautiful hills and the ocean. Read more →
In its sensuous immediacy, the world, its fields, hills, mountains, streams, seas and many skies, heat and cold, wet and dry, its secret past unfolds. This world, this mind holds our secrets, secrets of origin, of unfolding and of end.
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