Sometimes at dawn I wake up with thought that actually climb out of my mind:

At the end of my yoga yesterday, during a gentle seated twist – breathing, long spine, softly I opened my eyes and caught this on the wall.

The mix of sun through the leaves of different trees, flickering as it slowly sank toward the horizon and the air moved through everything – shifting patterns – in the middle of this was my silouhette. Not fancy, not even completely identifyable as ‘me’, but like a postage stamp it stuck to my mind.

The way it was all there – movement, light, leaves, person, all reduced to the simplicity of shadow. Seeing it all together in a way that I could not have conceived on my own, how can the warmth of the light somehow be the same as my hair? A mixing of metaphor, meduim, matter and the vibrancy of the light and wind – when it all becomes concept, now that’s an exciting moment. (for me) Funny how much a shadow can show even though we know nearly nothing by it.

and then,

how much more exciting is it when you step out of the shadows and realise the colour in your cheeks and feel that breeze and see all the different trees – tall with broad palms or the bending stem of the flowering bush, the giant magnolia and the sharp glisten of the holly.

Words do not convey – but then again, neither do shadows.


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