Dear Professor; I hope that within the walls of the great auditorium your echoes remain. I know the spirit of my eyes remain there where the audience of dark eyes have long now vanished. Life is a long road with very short turns and as years go by fuel will become a necessity only to those that have tired feet. And in my journey of life I shall never have tired feet even when walking to the depths of the deepest dark forests. The weekend is coming and I have found lately that I have had a need to change the course of my daily routines by trying to change the wind and avoid weathermen. As I sit here and write I can see the invisible force that moves through the trees and I long to be such a force as you once were. I know you must recall my obsession with the trees as you once mentioned that it was I who spent far too much time trying to find my purpose among them. Have we all forgotten the Man of La Mancha? Or Leaf by Niggle? Sometimes all that matters is a word, a sound or the wind, and in my vain little world I find that I cannot express anything that has not already been influenced by either you or the shadows I make on the wall. And you, my dear colleague have caused me to see that within my own silence you speak the loudest. I know in the days to come as I age along with the trees here I will probably start to think less and less of you; and that is so hard for me to accept. Back when time was nearly eternal yet lived in short moments I was able to think of you every day. I wish at that time you could have understood why. I’m not like any other student of yours. Indirectly you have made me realize that there are people in one’s life that need to be thanked, yet will never hear the words. You to me are one of those people. The lessons you taught me without books are the lessons I have learned best. The knowledge held within the world you showed me without maps is the kind of knowledge I can use for eternity. The thoughts that bring me pleasure by merely thinking them are the gifts you gave to me. Those long hours I spent making small talk at the wall while envisioning a table standing empty by the edge of the sea. And I too, like you, hope to one day be able to dance beneath the diamond sky with one hand waving free. I always knew I could call you any name I’d like and you’d never deny it; and so I prefer Professor. And as the smoke has lifted and I found a pen that will write; I say to you, Thank you. Sincerely Yours, Your Humbled Student Shabetei (picture is of an Acrylic painting I did titled "Alias")