The Cause of Our Exile

David Price
3 min readSep 2, 2021
Siana Park


The Post Modern world we are now beginning made the discovery that Buddha made 2500 years ago. This desire to make everything known, an object of knowledge, named and stamped and put in the library, is the cause of our exile, our feeling of separation and the desire to make everything known as my object of knowledge. This was the radical discovery of Quantum Physics when our instruments of exploration of the subatomic world discovered that the Laws of Cause and Effect didn’t work there.

— Ed Conley


— On the steps of the Paris Stock Exchange the goldskinned men quoting prices on their gemmed fingers. Gabbles of geese. They swarmed loud, uncouth about the temple, their heads thickplotting under maladroit silk hats. Not theirs ; these clothes, this speech, these gestures. Their full slow eyes belied the words, the gestures eager and unoffending, but knew the rancours massed about them and knew their zeal was vain. Vain patience to heap and hoard. Time surely would scatter all. A hoard heaped by the roadside ; plundered and passing on. Their eyes knew the years of wandering and, patient, knew the dishonours of their flesh.

— James Joyce.


Wherever I go I find that a poet was there before me.

— Freud.

Poets get there first, and artists and musicians. Only later do the intellectuals and theologians follow suit. Philosophers come after the poets and before the theologians, who only ‘see’ once it has all been written down.

— David Tacey

We’re beginning to realize we are living in a song, a poem, and we’ll never be able to pin it down with our mind. It’s not the giant machine we imagined. We’ve discovered the limits of rationality, that we’ll never be able to mount it on the wall with the other dead butterflies. It defies logic and insists upon beauty and metaphor.

The fact that we must pass from this physical life has stimulated our imaginations to invent stories about the other side. Death is feared because we think we’re stable and solid in our bodily existence, the loss of which is tragic. We grieve the loss of people and possessions when they pass out of our…

David Price

I write about creativity, loving, language learning and psycho/spirituality. I’m a longtime painter and reader.