Simple

I find myself drawn naturally to the simplest forms of full expression.  Give me the unpretentious song of a western meadowlark and keep the orchestra for yourself.  Allow me a photograph expressed entirely in shades of green.

I love concise and unpretentious.

Philosophy—which I generally do not admire—tends to run opposite of simple and concise.  Whole books have been written to express what can simply be stated in this way: “Live a life of giving.”

Why not just say that?

Today, while driving through thick fog in early morning darkness, often switching directions by 90 degrees at a single turn, I got to thinking about, well, direction.  In the fog, without landmarks for reference, I soon found myself traveling in uncertain direction.

Without reference, in simple form, you are going in the direction you are traveling.  And that is that.

But maybe this is too simple an expression.  A point of reference is required to make sense of it.

And then, just as a fence appeared and began marching alongside me on the left, I thought about life and the possibility of life hereafter.

I would express that in this way:

Birth = True

Death = False

—Mitchell Hegman