The other afternoon, a stroll through one of the many small neighborhood parks rewarded me with some folk-art style sculptures that in my mind's eye of youth reflected the works seen and subconsciously registered in the 1970s. Of the few that I took some spare moments to look at, there was one slightly abstract one which could very well be of Atlas supporting the heavens. At least, I hope that it was, because it looks as if his burden is a little bit reduced.
A similar feeling I have these days, too, as if something is up ahead. Usually, I call it a "storm" because it seems more dramatic that way, but often enough what happens is that beauty blows through ever so lightly and then things become ever so much more clearer than clear.
 |
| Lest the heavens fall, but should they, then what of it? |
No comments:
Post a Comment