(c) Light & Composition UniversityThe Weight of a Flame
I burned a candle on my desk this morning, just to watch the wick struggle against the draft from the window. It felt like a small, private act of defiance against the gray weather outside. We spend so much of our lives trying to keep our own…
(c) Light & Composition UniversityThe Ghost of the Commute
The blue bicycle I left leaning against the brick wall of my childhood home is gone. It was not stolen; it was simply outgrown, then discarded, then reclaimed by the rust that eats everything that stops moving. I remember the specific sound…
The Weight of Morning
There is a quiet rhythm to the way the world asks us to carry its burdens. Often, we move through our days without noticing the small, heavy things that others hold. We walk past the shoulders bent under the weight of duty, the hands already…