It is a fierce, foamy world of 'what ifs', 'what can be' and 'what might be' that we live in. I say fierce, because competition to stand out and stay ahead was never this acute in the written history of mankind. I say foamy, because never before we were aware of our own potential. We are immersed in the froth of promises and possibilities that constantly appear each moment, only to disappear the very next moment. We experience magic in every single breath. We indulge in the process of continuous creativity consciously and sub-consciously. We are on an enhanced evolutionary path. This means mankind as a whole is rigorously pursing the 80-20 rule. [Eradicate 80% of things that yield only 20% of the value in any undertaking. Then re-direct and refocus the freed up resources to leverage radical levels of change.] Nature does it. A single snowflake holds wisdom of the eternity.
Think about what is impossible today but if possible would change the way you do business. At Skyline we are proud to have done exactly that. We have bent at will the linear laws of physics that reflects the highest degree of imaginative thinking and is almost perceived by others as revolutionary — crazy— in its departure from conventional trade show exhibit design and build. And, enough craziness and daring produces heightened spikes of innovations which results in new concepts and new constructs.
When the first flower sprouted in the high mountains of the Andes, some millions of years ago, it was a revolutionary breakthrough. It evolved into the high civilization of the Incas. If a flower can achieve such a feat of wonder, imagine what you can do!
This time of the year impels me to be contemplative and to be in flow with Nature. It is amazing to see the 80-20 rule being played out again and again. It is in the graciousness of giving up that we supercharge our evolutionary process. It is the wellspring of our conscious creativity.
Thank you. Thank you again.
bended tree—
with twiggy fingers
trailing along crust
of snow…can you
bear the weight? lacy
tendrils of frost nip
at your ankles and
this heavy wreath of
crystalline drips
from your crown. How
do you stand winter’s
icy blast--folded under
so? your aged limbs,
a scroll, creased in upon
bowed body and tied
down. do you pray?
do you stare directly
into the sun--this
divagating philter in
which you beek? await
the liberating thaw…
then you will arch your
back in piquant awakening
and reach once more
for brumal skies.
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