What defines a poet is a certain universal quality that entails being attuned to the secret vibrations of the world.
There is no question that I want to remember Robin Williams as he was in the Birdcage, a dynamic gay club-owner prancing around a stage in an “eclectic celebration of a dance,” or as the poignant Dr. Maguire in Good Will Hunting, or, of course, as the daring and inspiring Mr. Keating in Dead Poets Society. Sure, right now I want to imagine that he is sitting in that field of brilliantly colored flowers in What Dreams May Come, looking out into an ethereal sky brushed with shades of bronze and gold. But if I am to remember him wholly and honestly, and embrace him for the talented actor he was, for his ability to sublimate his sorrow into seamless laughter, then I must also remember that his real life wasn’t lived as a Hollywood movie filled with starlight and wishes, nor did it end that way. I remain confounded, left wondering how the Academy could choose to tweet a wistful cartoon image in Williams’s memory when the tapestry of his life’s work is so much richer and deeper than a caricature of himself as a powerful genie.
Beyond The Wishes Of The Genie: Remembering Robin Williams by Maria Smilios
Meditation of light on water
Meditation of light through trees and heart
Finding the Buddha nature in all.
Nighttime tire arrangement on American Street.
the greatest DJ
Sleeping house in Tamworth, New Hampshire. Built in 2008 by a father and son team from locally milled lumber.
Submitted by Charlie Myer.
Page 1 of 12