To me, any theme that holds my attention must be a black butterfly. That is, innocent -- and dark at the same time. In fact, that combination has to be deep in the theme’s DNA for me to start.
And while I see (and build) layers, underlays and overlays, stories
on top of and next to stories, it’s not a puzzle I’m making or a problem I’m trying to solve. It’s not a matter of fitting cut out pieces together and re-assembling something that‘s already known and recognized.
All the pieces are there and not there…just the way longing is.
One often feels most fervently what lies -- and remains -- out of one’s grasp. That beauty that allures us…isn’t it treacherous the way it makes us reach out, tip our balance one way or another?
I know it is so. And still I reach.