To hold it for a moment there is always a price. Take the seashore, endless sunlight bursting on water—
pelicans and gulls spindive, and the tide’s quick shift of sand is like absence under my feet, a net cinching tight until I stumble. This is the world’s gift to me because I thought it could be held, thought I wouldn’t be burned by its beauty: it says
There is no place solid to stand.
Even stillness— like the concentrated beacon of a heron tracking small, dark fish under the surf— cannot save me.
– Ilyse Kusnetz, The World Is Too Beautiful for Our Eyes

















