The Earth We Evolved To

I Was Fifteen, And When I Picture Myself Then, I See Flames Shooting Up, See Myself Falling Off The Edge Of The World, And Am Amazed I Survived Not The Outside World But The Inside One.

The Art Is Not One Of Forgetting But Letting Go. And When Everything Else Is Gone, You Can Be Rich In Loss.

Places Matter. Their Rules, Their Scale, Their Design Include Or Exclude Civil Society, Pedestrianism, Equality, Diversity (economic And Otherwise), Understanding Of Where Water Comes From And Garbage Goes, Consumption Or Conservation. They Map Our Lives.

The Object We Call A Book Is Not The Real Book, But Its Potential, Like A Musical Score Or Seed. It Exists Fully Only In The Act Of Being Read; And Its Real Home Is Inside The Head Of The Reader, Where The Symphony Resounds, The Seed Germinates. A Book Is A Heart That Only Beats In The Chest Of Another.

Everywhere People Are At Work To Build A Better World In Which We - And Some Of The Beauty Of This World - Will Be Guaranteed To Survive. Everywhere They Are At War With The Forces Threatening Us And The Planet.