I've been consistently finding myself at
a loss for words, trying to take emotions of the last weeks, and trying to sample them down to simple
ascii characters.
There is something
cathartic in this, but also a feeling that not all has been said, that not all can be communicated in this medium. That somehow, a small glance given over a
coffee would be more than enough to convey everything that I'm feeling -- but not this text, these words.
...
When I was young, I was caught unawares by a
total lunar eclipse. I was at a park surrounded by trees, and when the moon began to fade, and change colour, I climbed to the top of the playstructure to see what was happening, how someone could simply be
turning the moon off.
After it went out, I swear that there was no light at all, only the most
perfect velvet black around me. Blind, I found my way down to the earth, and wandered into the forest, to try and see if the whole world had just shut down, if everything was dark forever.
And when I thought perhaps it was going to be dark forever, there appeared a
crescent of light in the sky, a beautiful
ice blue, and on every leaf and branch and surface that could cast a shadow, there was a miniature
blue moon, dancing with the wind.
I cannot put into words how I felt then. I cannot put into words how I feel now.
...
More:
egyptian gods watching me behind glass, still and cold.
jessica kissing my cheek as I left, snowflakes everywhere.
the fog on the
ottawa river reaching to a purple sky, tearing itself apart.
hearing
leslie's whispered secrets, unable to look away.
the outro of '
2 rights make 1 wrong', the first time.
stepping off a bus in edmonton after a three day ride, knowing
amanda was there.
at christo's mother's cottage, making
sacred space.
telling stories around the
bonfire, every one of us friends.
knowing that i had come
home.