Part of my insanity is this great affinity for the idea of an ebb and flow of time in some massive confinement, as if God had a big pool or pond out back, and he lets us frolic in it. Barry Smith, among others, has often talked about "hangin ten" and catchin a gnarly wave in this "time pool." Anyhoo, Steranko has been one of my icons that has transcended the ages
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