There is some beauty in the blur as things are changing. That smeary moment of endings and beginnings—like runners exchanging a baton—there’s always a little overlap.
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Sometimes when I am painting, I think my canvas may bow in the middle like a cheap swing set—a result of all of the layers of paint that are resting on it. You are a puzzle, my friend, a fascinating puzzle. You are one surprise after another, just like those crazy Russian nesting dolls. You’ve been clever and intricate with how you’ve bound up that heart of yours. Maybe is a dark little town where the inhabitants never travel to No and never visit Yes. Even though the trip would be easy. You know those moments when you’ve asked the great Unknown how your life can be better, what you can do to make a difference, how you can be the example you always… I need you to hear something. That thing—that thing you’ve been dragging around, possibly for years—you know what I mean. That tipping point of shame in your life… I think of my hard, sharp edges and my mind goes to all the people who regularly file them down —so others can approach without incident. Where would you be without your fear? I’ve been waking up every morning between 4-430 for the last several months and I hate it. I’m tired. There is no reason for me to be up at the crack of ass. People change your life every day in remarkable ways. Sometimes you don’t even know enough to give them the credit. |
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