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Free by Janet Granger It is describing the difference between the bouncy, clownish trot and the smooth, brilliant gallop to one who has never ridden. Running clear over the fields, the sands, the red earth out on the back of two tons of thought, out to the edge where you jump, out into the blue dome of ecstasy, free from the bondage of sanity’s gravity, a moment of grace, or fall into the deep, dark canyon, free-- falling to crash on the rocks below, no reins to hold back the fast descent into madness. With pen or string or paint, it is an unfettered gait felt by some, understood by some, and, for others, a mere ride, a moment’s passing. |
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Document last modified on: 07/25/1997