Serve basket of warm naan next to clay pot of spicy curry... Arrange wildflowers on pagewith light angling in from outside.
When the light enters though our rips and tears, we start to watch our wounds seal up and repair, becoming inimitable light sources on their own.
Sometimes the story needs to change... leaving you with a painful choice: to keep playing your part, or to craft new lines.
I feel the warmth of the sun through the windows on my skin before the light penetrates the thick curtains of my eyelids. Heavy with sleep, my eyelids flutter, my eyes focus on the source of this warmth and then just as quickly close, and I’m still not sure whether I’m awake yet or asleep. ...