Photo credits:

Arturo Alvarez-Buylla

Fernando Nottebohm

Santosh Helekar

Tim Gardner

Ben Scott

Marcelo Magnasco

Of Mere Being

The palm at the end of the mind,

Beyond the last thought, rises

In the bronze decor,

A gold-feathered bird

Sings in the palm, without human meaning,

Without human feeling, a foreign song.

You know then that it is not the reason

That makes us happy or unhappy.

The bird sings. Its feathers shine.

The palm stands on the edge of space.

The wind moves slowly in the branches.

The bird's fire-fangled feathers dangle down.

Wallace Stevens

Research positions open:

Postdoctoral fellow

Graduate & Undergraduate students

Laboratory of neural circuit formation

at Boston University