Music by Elizabeth Douthitt Sharp
It’s not a mirror; it’s a window. It’s the inside of a computer monitor. It’s a time machine, another dimension. It’s a miracle, a shared vision. You’re dreaming; it’s the backside of your eyelids. You’re dreaming of a luminous rectangle with sound and moving images. In your dream, it’s an act of faith; as T. S. Eliot said, you suspend disbelief. Inside the rectangle you find a sphere, and inside the sphere another world whose metaphors can help in the world where you began.