Beauty lies where it cannot always be properly translated… In a heart… In a mind that is closed and yet open. Open to see, yet closed to perception. Falsities dance in invitation – beautifying its truth of nature to capture its desires. Enchanting – misleading -beguiling its attentive admirer… Confusion takes hold, racing the track of a worn circle in the ensnared mind. A spark of simple being leaps through the thick veil, but the mist beyond dims the gathering of potential understanding. Truth is lost. Desire is enhanced. The fires are stoked into a frenzy. A drop of wax seals the missive and a cause is extinguished. A needle is snapped as a painter falls numb. A single bristle makes contact to trace a last piece of her truth growing faint. She is lost.
-Originally written Sunday, March 27th, 2005