Of course, the skies have already cleared and may be blue and sunny in a few hours.
We do after all, live in the tropics (in the ring of fire to be exact).
In between tropical seasons, my mind can’t help but wander, remember, anticipate.
Just like in these pictures, where tables have been turned to rest on each other, I have the sense of existing between work and rest.
Or between different kinds of work, to be more precise. (Don’t the metal beads in these bracelets remind you of snowflakes?)
The dust still hasn’t settled, can’t be wiped off surfaces. But already my muddled mind sees through things as though I were past tabula rasa.
As though the 8 ball was already removed from the corner pocket, and now set neatly again.
Ready for more disarray.
It’s as if I were no longer here anymore.