The Weight of Gold

Dear reader, I have been thinking about the way we dress our lives for the sake of a single, fleeting afternoon. We spend so much time gathering the threads—the heavy silks, the polished stones, the intricate patterns that map out our history—as if we are building a fortress against the passage of time. We want to be remembered as something solid, something that does not fray or fade when the sun goes down. But there is a quiet ache in that preparation, isn’t there? The realization that we are only ever playing a part in a story that began long before we were born. We carry the weight of tradition on our shoulders like a crown, hoping that if we stand still enough, if we hold our breath long enough, we might finally become the person we were always meant to be. Does the gold ever feel heavy, or does it simply become a part of your skin?

Madush Abeyratne has captured this feeling in the beautiful image titled A Sculpture Of Eternal Elegance. It reminds me that even in our most ornate moments, we are searching for a stillness that lasts. Does this vision of grace make you feel like you are looking at a person, or a dream?