If you look directly at the sun, for a while things around become dull and washed out;
but gradually the shadows return and subtle shades reassert themselves
and you see the transparent lights of daffodils,
the shimmering lights of the evening mist,
the flickering lights on the hair of children, playing,
the quiet lights on the faces of a couple, facing each other silently on a hill…
So many lights, so rich, so subtle –
all reflecting the sunlight and making it so much more.
We live in the spaces defined by our cultures.
Some of us expand inherited houses to palaces,
some – narrow them to defensive forts,
which then have to be lit by funeral pyres.
I like wear and tear.
Things are new and clean in the same way, but old and dirty differently.
And so are people.
In the age of mass production, wear and tear help to save us from boredom.
There is something almost unbearably poignant about a child approaching the sea.
The difference in scale is staggering and the fearless curiosity – heartening.
The spaces in our lives are seen in context,
framed against the background of the familiar
and noticed when they differ from it –
but not too much…
The closer you approach a source of light above,
the deeper you plunge into the dark.
