I could not understand why men who knew all about good and evil could hate and kill each other.
I have walked this hall before, but today is the impressionist’s pallet of colored light on the great column I witness.
I return in reminiscence of Rifle House Cemetery where the annunciated turn of an iron gate launched a thousand and more butterflies towards the welkin.
Perhaps these happenstance words I gather may become useful, perhaps they will bond with me to capture Orion’s (the hunter’s) day from the Tyndall Blue?
My return home leaves me searching, a desire to return to my floating water nest, its lullaby an even keel and leveler of imbalance.
…an important reminder, for any day, that no matter how we sculpt and paint the past for easier digestion hurt remains within the deep and supple layers of our engineering of the decay. My encounter with Behnke’s past on this cold frozen bee day…reminds me that within the peace I search remain the percussions of conflict.
I thought my challenge, during these days of the morphing spiked menace, to be memory…but the opposite is true, the challenge is the desire for new memory (because I cannot travel). I find that time away from place has left me wanting for the feel of these landscapes. I yearn for the turf, the stone, the trail.
Once sneering towards the operatic…but what wisdom comes with age…perhaps gentle ears finding joy in the sound of balanced voices. What joy is this but my own and what more can there be save perhaps the joy shared with others. These works are someone’s work…their work…their effort…so much easier to cast shadows then light…bring me the light, we will shine, we will soar.
Here amongst someone’s book…someone’s time amongst the finery of life. Perhaps times shared with another in the meadow, small conversation at hand, the kindness of hopeful love, together with the gentle calm of each other.
I come to realize that my usual treasury of resources is not delivering…film, sound and soundtrack, the words of others…all require my own journeys to find connection, similar and dissimilar…joys of discovery. These legs need to journey…finding the places and things that bring all together…