Sketchbook Writings
UmberDove
~ From My Sketchbook Writings, Tuesday January 10th ~
It begins like this:
An uneventful sunset eases into busy hands and a quiet mind. It progresses like any dream of flying; walking turns to running turns to leaping turns to earth rotating slowly below one's soles. And somewhere in there, the mind gives way to wild thoughts. The dangerous thoughts that in one's waking moments are too big, too grandiose, too ludicrous to allow among the elderly at heart. The children, well, they've always been unafraid. So we tie wings to their shoes and tell them to fly and sure enough,
they step onto thin air.
All the while our hands keep moving while the mind leans back and sighs and says yes. That will do.
An uneventful sunset eases into busy hands and a quiet mind. It progresses like any dream of flying; walking turns to running turns to leaping turns to earth rotating slowly below one's soles. And somewhere in there, the mind gives way to wild thoughts. The dangerous thoughts that in one's waking moments are too big, too grandiose, too ludicrous to allow among the elderly at heart. The children, well, they've always been unafraid. So we tie wings to their shoes and tell them to fly and sure enough,
they step onto thin air.
All the while our hands keep moving while the mind leans back and sighs and says yes. That will do.
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