To me everything is extraordinary and nothing is. Aeschylus was killed when he was hit on the head by a tortoise dropped by an eagle but that's not extraordinary when you consider that he was sitting directly below the eagle when it dropped the tortoise from a considerable height. On the other hand, that there was Aeschylus, that to me is extraordinary: that the world appeared in his eyes, that the world lived in him like the light in a lantern, that there are continually new lanterns for the world to live in, that you and I are two of them, yes, that to me is extraordinary.
Here in Rochester, I am at the mercy of library computers for my internet and e-mail access, but I look forward to going back to Chicago and reading at my leisure all of the correspondance re: this year's event. I'm so pleased that this fledgling idea has taken flight so successfully. Here's to many more!