(c) Light & Composition UniversityThe River of Becoming
There is a quiet wisdom in the way a child moves through water. They do not fight the current, nor do they seek to master the depth; they simply exist within the flow, as much a part of the river as the stones beneath their feet. We spend so…
The Weight of the Unspoken
I often find myself lingering near the industrial docks of the city, where the air tastes of salt and heavy labor. There is a particular silence that settles over a person when the body has given all it can, yet the day refuses to end. It is…
The Weight of Morning
I keep a small, smooth river stone on my desk, worn down by years of being turned over in my palm. It is cold to the touch, heavy with the silence of the water it once rested in. We often think of time as a river that carries things away, but…