"Don't we all look back in longing”, wrote Carolyn Hart, “those of us who had happy childhoods? “Because the greatest loss we ever know is not the loss of family or place or money, it is the loss of innocence.” I found Teresa at a sensitive time in her life. She was no longer a child but not yet a young woman. She was a young girl about to pass from the safety of unaffected innocence into the uncertainty of expectant awareness. I remember that long ago evening, watching Teresa moving about the room, so casual, so spontaneous and graceful, while I, knowing all along that change, the sole Universal Absolute, would soon arouse unfamiliar sensations within her and without. I raised my camera firing just once. It has been decades since I last saw Teresa and now her image, captured in that single unguarded moment, remains Timeless to me.
Dennis James Laux, 2012
"University of Darkness"
Every Age of Enlightenment, with its new discoveries, advancements and breakthroughs, and every step forward towards human understanding brings the terrible revelation that the bulk of humankind’s knowledge is always in error, always wrong. We see that truth lies solely in the misconception of contemporary observation. Humanity’s most enduring achievement, learning to walk upright, was probably only happenstance.
Dennis James Laux, 2012
"Then too, the natives are mortally afraid of the numerous whippoorwills which grow vocal on warm nights. It is vowed that the birds are psychopomps lying in wait for the souls of the dying, and that they time their eerie cries in unison with the sufferer’s struggling breath. If they can catch the fleeing soul when it leaves the body, they instantly flutter away chittering in daemoniac laughter; but if they fail, they subside gradually into a disappointed silence."
"If heaven is merciful, it will some day efface from my consciousness the sight that I saw, and let me live my last years in peace. I cannot sleep at night now, and have to take opiates when it thunders. The thing came abruptly and unannounced; a daemon, rat-like scurrying from pits remote and unimaginable, a hellish panting and stifled grunting, and then from that opening beneath the chimney a burst of multitudinous and leprous life—a loathsome night-spawned flood of organic corruption more devastatingly hideous than the blackest conjurations of mortal madness and morbidity. Seething, stewing, surging, bubbling like serpents’ slime it rolled up and out of that yawning hole, spreading like a septic contagion and streaming from the cellar at every point of egress—streaming out to scatter through the accursed midnight forests and strew fear, madness, and death."