Stained Glass Secrets

When I was six, my grandmother kept a collection of glass marbles in a velvet pouch. I remember sitting on the kitchen floor, holding them up to the morning sun that spilled across the linoleum. If I squinted, the light didn’t just pass through the glass; it seemed to wake up, painting the dust motes in the air with sudden, impossible bruises of violet and gold. I thought if I could just trap that light, I could keep the morning forever. I spent hours trying to catch the colors on my palms, but they always slipped away the moment I closed my fingers. As an adult, I realize we spend so much of our lives trying to hold onto the transient, forgetting that the beauty is in the fleeting nature of the stain itself. We want to own the glow, but we are only ever meant to be the canvas. Does the light remember the shapes it touched before it moved on?

Zahra Vatan Parast has taken this beautiful image titled Dance of Colors and Lights. It captures that same feeling of light finding a home on a surface that was waiting for it all along. Does it remind you of the first time you saw color move?