"Fiction that adds up, that suggests a 'logical consistency,' or an explanation of some kind, is surely second-rate fiction; for the truth of life is its mystery."
from this book by Joyce Carol Oates
I like that. Art embraces and creates mystery, not explanation. It reminds me that as a writer (to paraphrase Foucault), I am freer than I think.
Oops, we forgot to turn out the lights last night. We were watching a movie and looked up and saw it was 8:50 p.m., only ten minutes left of Earth Hour.
Bad, bad earth stewards.
We are now off to atone with a hike in the redwoods. Of course we have to drive to get there.
Um. We put spiral flourescent lightbulbs in our lamps. Does that count?