resorts of higher souls

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Recent years in the U.S. cause me to sympathize with German minds of the nazi years who sought “inner emigration,” and lived to instill inceptive values for new generations.

But I’ve been in a kind of inner immigration ever since the Vietnam war years, my entire adult life.

I suppose many researchers and artists feel similarly about their entire adult lives: as if the soul of their genius destined them to commune privately with kindreds, mostly across highland distances of mindful resort, cohering nets of creative estate: from salons (happily free interplay) to secluded colonies of free play, distributed institutes of free inquiry, and The University as planetary form of life, suggesting to me a singularity of universCity around global metropolia facing the Black Cosmos in free wonder.