Something just came up, tonight, which reminded me of the Little Prince; what’s essential might be temporarily invisible to the eyes but is always seen quite well with one’s heart. And this too: roses are proud flowers, self-aware and more critical of themselves then anybody could ever be. And then I noticed I hadn’t written yet about the following. Maybe I should’ve started with this post, when I came home over a week ago, since it mattered to me most. I’ve been very disorganized in the way I address my photos. I was also stalling because I waited for the inspiration on how to write about such an extraordinary thing without using the actual words for it, for very practical web reasons. The inspiration didn’t come. There’s a personal limit in blogging that one doesn’t feel equipped to push, and mine stands just beyond what I am currently doing and right before the scope of this post. So. Here are, without real words and framed by long pauses, sighs and smiles, a few rare pictures of a most amazing day. It was a lovely day of breaking the rules, of throwing preconceived ideas into the wind, of going back to the source, of shaving the unnecessary, of looking deep inside instead of out, of holding a single hand rather than many, of spending time with angels, of walking barefoot when shoes are in order, of wearing jeans because they feel good, of eating with bare fingers, of doing exactly what we wanted, of staring into the sunset while dreaming of sunrise, of not caring too much about what they think, of taking a last step down and a first up, of burning bridges and opening new doors, of taking chances and daring to jump with no ground in sight, of seeing an everlasting fog finally lifted, of understanding it all, of figuring out how simple life’s complexity is, of saying yes after so many no’s, of definitely accepting the truth as only currency, of taking a deep breath and arriving home, at last.
PS If one needs more details, it was also blogged about quite funnily over at 66 Square feet. ;-)