If you are reading this, know that I am out exploring. I’m on a walkabout. I’ve lost my compass and my shoes are wearing thin...yet the journey carries it’s own direction. So I press on.
It isn’t that everything is dark and gloomy; far from it. Some days the mornings are crisp and I think i know where I am. But generally, by day’s end, I have seen smoke signals to the north. And I wonder.
It is narrative work I do. It’s your narrative that is hopefully evoked.
The sand that slips through our fingers has always felt like it needed honorific to me. Those narratives, both large and small, are what makes the soil rich. I somehow find it more possible to find the beauty in the soft light of dusk and night as a way to be able to see that which is in full view.
With Safe Passage, I am looking back to see if i have learned anything that can shed light, for this moment and the next. Hidden in the shadows there is blue, and pale gray green, and mauve, and black. And I see hints of answers and light made more vivid by what is cast behind, and below.