For the ones that risk to feel or share their stories, energy and dimension is possible.
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I wrote this weekend on a train journey. I watched the Central Valley turn from scrub to the beginning of the Bay Area. I watched the light surrender, falling into itself, becoming shards of gray sky. The fog loomed in the distance like an old friend, a reminder of what has happened, and what is about to come.
In my departure, memories pressed themselves against my heart. I've been here before. My future became hypnotized; my mind lengthened, and I wept as I watched the landscape move in reverse, my eyes stretched to see the last of your face.
