Each Day

Each day, in the morning light, as I go into my kitchen, I hope to see the sunrise cast its blithe shadows on the wall.

Everything so penetratingly deeply glowing as if I am peering into the mouth of a firey oven . . . but then the light changes so fast, within only one or two minutes.

I then can see the form of the trunks and foliage from the fir trees outside the window, as shadow puppets performing a merry show,  while the soft benevolent orange sun climbs up rapidly from the east.

The light which peeks in so intimately through the window early in the morning for only a few moments, so suddenly becomes aloof,  and then the wash of the light of the day floods the room, so fast !  Then everything just looks and feels … well… brightening … yet fading. 

This makes me realize how creativity works.   When conditions are right, a window through which I feel intensity of life, of inner light perhaps, and a bulls-eye to be glimpsed, and aimed toward.  But only moments later the light changes and does not show so clearly the target, and conditions wane, inspiration washes out.  Inspiration is merely a flicker, really, when I think about it, when conditions are right.  I must let my mind’s eye capture that flicker , let it be etched in, and hold it for as long as possible.

In between these flickering moments, I bide my time with the work which needs to be done.

10 thoughts on “Each Day

  1. Magical, mysterious and profoundly beautiful pictures accompanied by sumptuously descriptive, poetic writing held me spellbound throughout this inspired and insightful post. I am inclined to commit the closing line to memory, not just for its poetry but as a wonderful motto to take through life. Thank you Jen.

    • Thank you MrCambellScot ~ It’s a miracle those photos took in that low light ! I mean, the house was barely light at the first one, when those first rays come in at such an angle. I had the camera on landscape setting, and the only setting I seem to use these days, at risk of the subject being blurry… Iknow so little about cameras, but yes, I’m surprised as all get-out that the little CanonP50 took it so well. As for the poetic angle, well, I still didn’t really intend to be so much. I guess I let the words slop out a bit much didn’t I ;).

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