runaway

do we dictate our character? our actions, found in our processes. the consequences of desperation. can I still be brave?

it still begins with those breaths and discipline. one clumsy step evolving into a gallant brisk walk. it’s easy to convince yourself of the things you know, exaggerated. so easy to debase. looking outside yourself again and again. debased. and while it feels difficult. it remains nothing more than a period of time, a happening, a set of events. he’s a little runaway after all.

can the personality be painted over and over again? is this a sadness or a reality? it is another day, moving toward a certain freedom. yes we can still be brave. we can still walk bravely. right through those cracks in the sidewalk and the ones running down the walls. somewhat jubilant. it is the occasion for faith. something beyond the self, into the outside, residing on the inside.

this is a slight return to the spiritual. what has closed must be reopened. reopened and worn, fitted to us, the knife in the sheaf. never questioning the length of our disappearance, but accepting the steps to this place. living here in the now. here in the beauty of transformative language.

art credit: Odilon Redon, The Cyclops, ca. 1898–1916