I looked at a printed page today and felt as if I understood the magic, the technique behind the trick. The secrets open up for me and let me in, still, more and more, as I wear on in years. The construction of a book, how paper is made, then the type for the pages arranged, and the work printed, then bound — and more, how they are packaged, shipped and distributed, advertised, and sold, to finally reach my hands. And before that, how the idea is first thought of, the initial spark that leads to notes, that leads to research, writing hour after hour, as far as inspiration will carry you: I have thought of all these things, how from nothing something is made. Even if in our case, it is merely rearrangement of molecules already present instead of ex nihilo as Our Father has done… wonder how the magic works, even when you know.