Fragments

The pieces wait to join each other in the magic of completeness. Separate, they are nice baubles, but together.... oh, together, my friend, they throw sparks of wild energy that grows and grows. Too much of one, and you get solipsism -- stuff, nouns, ideas -- that just sits there. Too much of the other, and all you have is action -- empty-headed car chases, wild leaps, extreme x-things with no reason or sense. It is in the union of being and action that the story begins, that the sentence begins to breathe. Character and action: that's the ticket, the creative tension between unlike, but hungry-to-join diversities. Do-be Do-be doo.