True North

People are so complex. They are like many layers of something very fine and changing. Like baklava. Is everyone like that, or is it just you and me?

I had so many dreams about it all before this.

If my day was a pinhole photograph taken with one long exposure, would there be something steady and clear in the very middle, like the way the north star anchors the sky?

A moth flew into lunch today. He said, "An omen." His hair is brown and his skin is white with small yellow dots like confetti on his shoulders and a few on the tops of his cheeks and along the bridge of his nose. Something so changing as a man's face. I looked up at the moth and thought. "Transformation," I said, and he agreed.

Reality changes in the blink of an eye. Like a turning gel flash and everything is suddenly red, then suddenly green, then suddenly white again. The things themselves don't change, but their appearance does. This makes everything so complicated. He says there is the Great Reality, the ultimate truth, that we can't really comprehend or interpret because of the limitations of our humanity. But that the closer we come to this, the closer we come to sanity. I will pray, then, to the Great Reality.

In one of the dreams I had there was an ocean with great waves that came with strong surges and fell, invisibly, over us. Each one was poured through me with such intensity and release. In the other there was also a beach, and I a swimmer in its ocean.




People are so complex. Reality is so changing. Find something that can sit in the middle of the exposure and never move. Something to measure against.