The fragmentary imperative attributed to Goethe as his dying words is "Mehr Licht," which translates as "more light," a characteristically rich turn of phrase with multiple possible senses (e.g. "Bring the candle closer, dammit, I can't see a thing," or "I see a reassuring glow on the far horizon"). With the passing of the winter solstice, as the days begin slowly to lengthen, I've reverted to Pico White as my backdrop here. (A glance at my archive during the dark days revealed that highlighted passages disappear almost entirely under the Pico Dark Blue regime, which I otherwise enjoyed.) The blank slate awaits.
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