My father turned 70 this last weekend. Whenever I read of someone’s passing, I feel now this weight of how much longer I have left to get to know him. Because I don’t. I find it hard to, as while we can chat amiably on the phone, in person we don’t get along well for long.
I lack the words to fully share what I’m trying to, but I think there’s a tremendous beauty in creating. It takes a unique talent to create from raw materials.
There’s some comparison I can’t quite articulate - between the stone mason dust- and that on some level we’re all just stardust.
Apologies for rambling here. I’m not sure it adds anything.
I lack the words to fully share what I’m trying to, but I think there’s a tremendous beauty in creating. It takes a unique talent to create from raw materials.
There’s some comparison I can’t quite articulate - between the stone mason dust- and that on some level we’re all just stardust.
Apologies for rambling here. I’m not sure it adds anything.