Fish on blue jean paper


Fish above provide by Aaron Henry Campbell, age 7.

Cold blue sea, endless in its reach, profound, unfathomed. I think my favorite line in Moby Dick is at the very end. The whale has triumphed and the last masthead disappears and Melville writes:
Now small fowls flew screaming over the yet yawning gulf; a sullen white surf beat against its steep sides; then all collapsed, and the great shroud of the sea rolled on as it rolled five thousand years ago.
The sea is fascinating. So is something else.

The fish above was called forth from a similar mysterious depth, one that lays its head in a pool of dreams each night, one that laughs and cries, draws and writes. The human person--young and old, rich and poor, black and white, male and female--is mystery, profound and unfathomed.

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