Formé comme théologien, David réfléchit sans cesse à Dieu. Que ce soit en tant que père ou grand-père, professeur d'université, moniteur d'école du dimanche, poète ou écrivain, il cherche à imaginer Dieu de manière utile et pleine d'espoir. Dans cet ouvrage, il transpose les perspectives tirées de ses études théologiques dans un récit d'une simplicité trompeuse et d'une profondeur évidente.
This new collection showcases David Weiss's poetic voice, building on the themes and styles established in his previous work, Per Diem. Readers can expect a blend of introspective reflections and vivid imagery, exploring the nuances of everyday life and the complexities of human experience. Weiss's unique perspective invites readers to engage deeply with each poem, revealing layers of meaning and emotion.
You could say that Little Mirror is a book-length conversation with an inanimate object. Or you could say it's a monologue in forty-seven fragments told to a different kind of fragment--a piece of mirrored glass. Or it's a confession made to a listener who cannot hear. Or a cri de coeur to a fellow traveler who cannot feel. Or a series of meditations on failure and grace and how to live, addressed to a companion who can reflect but not reflect on. This is a book whose plain talk with a thing of little value becomes a refiner's fire to burn away self-deception and dishonesty and replace it with clarity.
Zen v deseti lekcích je jednoduché, zábavné vysvětlení principů zenového myšlení a žití. Tento praktický manuál vám předvádí, jak lze využít harmonii zenu při každodenních činnostech. Je uspořádán do deseti přehledných kapitol, z nichž je každá uzavřena oddílem otázek a odpovědí, které vyjasňují zbývající dotazy.
Curating Experience: An Exhibition Curated by Graduating Students on the Curating Contemporary Art MA.
An artist's book by the renowned Swiss duo dedicated to the questions that everyone asks themselves once in a Can something be unbelievable? Should I get drunk? Could I be Japanese? Is the freedom of birds overrated? Am I a farmer in winter? Does unease grow by itself? Should I crawl into my bed and stop producing things all the time?
