Who are we if not contrasts, contradictions and beauty. Who am I beyond body and mind? And you? Remind me. Show me. Better yet, tell. The story we tell is written around us. Plays itself out in actuality.
What I have to say for myself you can see. I wear it on my skin. Drink from it. Keep it near, intimate. Nonchalant gatherings of life. Inspired vignettes. Journals. Chosen choice words I share, guarded, honest but limited. We say volumes by what we don’t, instinctively.
Who am I but my doing. Stories told in what I create. Spaces layered in hope, informed by inspiration. Desire and need. What the future holds the past has guided. And of now? Who are we now but the future’s holdings. What we say echoes. What we build, arches. Forward.
Lay it all out, you’ll see it before you. Build it as cathedral. Glass house. Who we are but walls and windows. Skin and bones. Gatherers.
Who we were. Who we are. Where we’re going.