Tuesday, November 3, 2009

not there yet

Any life is made up of a single moment, the moment in which a man finds out, once and for all, who he is.                
                                             -Jorge Luis Borges


cafe selavy said...

Assuming the old, stable ego is a constant from birth to death. Some would have none of that, believing we are made at any given moment. The stack of books suggests we are what we read, are composed of the voices that speak through us. Nice combo of photo and words. Provocative.

Rhonda Prince said...

There's a typo in my response to your blog entry today but I'm fighting to not edit... You're right about the stack of books signifying the search of who we are through the voice of others. Constantly scanning the works of others until we find something that rings true and saying..."Aha, there it is, that's who I am..."

cafe selavy said...

Typo? Wahts that?