Transitions challenge us.
From boat house to land, the path wobbles, especially if you run.
The places where elements meet — as in skylines, shores — present mystery. Where is the beauty in arriving home from vacation? Returning to an office after 15 years away? A friend’s father dies today.
Day bleeds into night, the sill between is decorated with rust-colored and ruined objects. A lost opportunity is what I saw this morning, watching the Iman in his white cap and a pastor dressed in a bloated defiance. Speaking to reporters, but not so much to each other. I would have liked palms to have met in fellowship. Isn’t that what good Christians do?
The eve of anniversaries.
She stood against the night sky and painted with a glow stick – her pink heart captured by pixels, visible after the fact.
Intention, light, creativity, and witnessing — not a bad combination for a world rife with conflict. I offer this heart of youth and of goodness to all of us on the eve of September 11.