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Monday February  20th 2012    Tim Candler

        Often surprises how when a word is written it takes on existence.  Quite erroneous, in my view, because the nature of a word is to reflect an impasse, otherwise there would be no need for words. And invariably this view of words  is dismissed as not useful.

      However, in the great tapestry each moment is a brick wall, and to move from one moment to the next requires idea. In the tail wind our exhaust is text, which I suggest offers insight into the view of a word as the beginning.  Meanwhile the Early Maple is about to bloom.

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