Here on the Mountain, we’ve been locked in what seems like the unbreakable grip of an historic heat wave.There’s been no rain either, so the foliage isn’t vibrant, the desiccated leaves are shriveled on the branches, they disintegrate in the palm like ancient clay. It isn’t pretty. Nor is it to avoided or ignored. Best that it is beheld. Otherwise, change will never come.
It’s the duty of art to be similarly unflinching.