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Theology

Westlake and Third
Western and Bay
Arts for Support

Spokane Street Bridge
Fan

Under West Seattle Bridge
Neuron
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Purkinje neuron illustrated by Ramón y Cajal, in 1887 or so.
Published in The Beautiful Brain, The Drawings of Santiago Ramon y Cajal By Larry Swanson, Eric Newman, Alfonso Araque, and Janet Dubinsky Reviewed in this great article in the New York Times.
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vvv
J

Under Spokane St.
1st Ave S, and Spokane St.
Wish
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There are stone circles like this all over this part of Ireland. Maybe 3000 years old. Before the Celts arrived. Almost for sure to do with the equinoxes and such, but beyond that no one really knows. Mysterioso. This one is in a place called Kenmare. It is unusual in that it is actually inside the town, about 3 blocks from the town square. So everyone who has ever lived in Kenmare grew up with these things in the back yard, and there a generations of
sentiment/superstition/tradition, that is to say religion, attached to them.
There is a tree there where people attach
notes, mostly wishes, and other things. So, we made a wish.
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Road
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The dream was always the same. I’d be driving fast on a narrow winding road. I would realize that the steering wheel was gone, and there were no brakes. I would go careening along, unable to control the car. Miraculously, the inevitable crash never occurred, but the terror just went on and on. I have not had this dream for years, until today. Except today…. It was REAL.
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Ireland has notoriously narrow roads. Marion has driven here before, so she drove as we headed out to Killarney National Forest. Another similarity to the US: park roads are the worst. So, I got to sit where the steering wheel is supposed to be, in sheer terror as she narrowly missed stone walls, ditches, other vehicles and the occasional crazy person on a bicycle.
Ultimately, I decided that it would be less scary to be driving, and would not be dissuaded.
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I did not get a mile, or even a kilometer. Several meters, maybe, before hitting a big rock.
Marion, reasonably expecting me to be a big dumb jerk, headed for the hills while I dealt with it. To my surprise, I enjoyed changing the tire. I’ve changed lots and lots of tires in my time. I’m good at it. Its the only time all day I felt in the least bit in control of anything automotive. Put me in a good mood. The guys who mounted the new tire for us were great, and I cracked them up by saying I’d rather fix a flat than drive on the left. Marion drives from now on.
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Here are the hills.
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