THE RESTRICTIONS OF MORTALITY
Roman cans. He picks fruit from trees and somehow transforms it into sweet stickiness.
He popped a lid on a fruit jar and his face crinkled up. He explained that air had gotten into the supposedly sealed jar.
I peeked in.
"Not air," I said. "God got in."
It was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen.
He said that if I ate it I might die. That was an important lesson to learn. The human brain can only process a limited amount of beauty at one time and still be allowed to live.
The restrictions of our mortal existence.
Roman cans. He picks fruit from trees and somehow transforms it into sweet stickiness.
He popped a lid on a fruit jar and his face crinkled up. He explained that air had gotten into the supposedly sealed jar.
I peeked in.
"Not air," I said. "God got in."
It was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen.
He said that if I ate it I might die. That was an important lesson to learn. The human brain can only process a limited amount of beauty at one time and still be allowed to live.
The restrictions of our mortal existence.
