Ink Dipped In The Stream of Sunlight, 2022

I write from a place where light rarely reaches—a stagnant gutter of hollow ego and unrefined desire.

For too long, we were busy clutching blades, slashing at one another in a clumsy attempt to survive. We were novices at living, and in our ignorance, we left wounds that still sting when the breeze touches them. I am sorry—not just to you, but to myself—for suffocating my own spirit with the weight of our mutual resentment. We shared a cycle of death, gathering what was already deceased and scattering it back onto paths that led nowhere.

Work in progress (Ink Dipped In The Stream of Sunlight, 2022)

But now, I seek a cleansing. Though I have felt like a failure, I am choosing to plant a single, defiant seed in this rotted earth. I am waiting for a tender, blushing life to poke its head through the filth.

Detail image of a flower
Detail image of speckle of Light

Let us lay our blades upon the table. Instead of using them to tear each other apart, let us use them to prepare a feast. I am a clumsy cook, but I can chop the ingredients and set them ready. Let us share a meal that is fresh and restorative.

Work in progress (Ink Dipped In The Stream of Sunlight, 2022)

I am trading the filth of the gutter for the sparkling ink of the river. I pray that light reaches our shaded corners so that new life may grow. Let us step into the sunlight.

It is a good day today.

Ink Dipped In The Stream of Sunlight, 2022

I write from a place where light rarely reaches—a stagnant gutter of hollow ego and unrefined desire.

For too long, we were busy clutching blades, slashing at one another in a clumsy attempt to survive. We were novices at living, and in our ignorance, we left wounds that still sting when the breeze touches them. I am sorry—not just to you, but to myself—for suffocating my own spirit with the weight of our mutual resentment. We shared a cycle of death, gathering what was already deceased and scattering it back onto paths that led nowhere.

Work in progress (Ink Dipped In The Stream of Sunlight, 2022)

But now, I seek a cleansing. Though I have felt like a failure, I am choosing to plant a single, defiant seed in this rotted earth. I am waiting for a tender, blushing life to poke its head through the filth.

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Let us lay our blades upon the table. Instead of using them to tear each other apart, let us use them to prepare a feast. I am a clumsy cook, but I can chop the ingredients and set them ready. Let us share a meal that is fresh and restorative.

Work in progress (Ink Dipped In The Stream of Sunlight, 2022)

I am trading the filth of the gutter for the sparkling ink of the river. I pray that light reaches our shaded corners so that new life may grow. Let us step into the sunlight.

It is a good day today.