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Album #54
In the light of day, one passes over the truth, which is naturally transparent. One strives to utilize the proliferation of fleeting visuals to direct one's response to the pressures of the day.
In the dark of night, one is immersed in the truth. It is flowing all around as if one was standing waist deep in running water. One can appreciate its sound, its temperature, its direction, and its power.
I see a woman, soaked, dripping head to toe, bent over, struggling forward, bearing buckets of night into the light of day.
I feel myself drawn to take the buckets from her hands– not simply to unburden her, but also to see the different shades, which will come, when I pour night into day.
