How satisfying it is to leave a mark on a blank surface. To make a map of my movement – no matter how temporary.

We experience a discomfort that may be foreign to others, but that pain opens up a world of beauty. Wouldn’t you think?

And that’s my comfort–that someone else was there and experienced the same thing. How else could I know it was real and not merely a dream?

I wanted a heaven. And I grew up striving for that world– an eternal world- that would wash away my temporary misery.

Pressed against her I can hear eternity — hollow, lonely spaces and currents that churn ceaselessly, and the fallen snow welcomes the falling snow with a whispered “Hush”.

What does the breathtaking view of the ocean mean without you?

Barely grazing, detouring, then connecting.

Except heaven is a hope , and eden is a memory .

And there you have it, Your Highness. Turning a jug of water into gold.

Shame is always easier to handle if you have someone to share it with.