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Our bodies speak of contradiction. Bones and soft tissue. Teeth and lips. Sensitive resilience. What strong family resemblance we share with the landscapes that shaped us. Wind and stone. Rivers and oaks. This old dance of opposing forces creating a unified whole.
It’s still sadness. But in the context of green growing things under a limitless sky, sadness is simplified. Not a wound. A tile in the mosaic.
Your thoughts are spun like cotton candy from flesh and electricity and you expect to be perfect?
They let us tame an ancient, devouring force of nature, older than life, and stick it in a little jar on the shelf. A candle is a pet god.
Home is a valley between saw-toothed peaks of loss. Here we sow failure and harvest miracles.
