Just the basic facts…can you show me where it hurts? ~Pink Floyd
Learning. I am but a child of this world, let me hold that sweetness in my mouth as long as I can. Listening deeply. Detached from the emotions that push to the surface, demanding. Failing. Learning backwards. Story telling, but which one and to whom, why and when? Impossible to be anything but myself, yet myself is impossible, at times. The past is real. Paradoxical, real and also unreal. I AM. and I AM NOT.
I sit here trying to find the words to describe my experience, my attention, drawn to the glistening edge of light, bouncing from the seed in my raspberry jam. Maybe it was strawberry this morning, I can’t remember, but the seed captivates me, none the less. Dangling by the sweetness it is immersed in, awkwardly, at an impossible angle. It hangs there on nothing more than a crumb of wheat toast.
It was good.
So it is… Good.
All of it.
The winter crocus opens its throat to the sun.
I open too.
Support living artists, the dead ones don’t have to pay rent. 🙂