The land is swamped with moonlight. A mysterious world revealed in silvery shadows, making the layers of the world more enchanting. When ever there is the need to see the world anew, sitting in the world in the darkness in the middle of the night, has become a nightime habbit.
The painter has helped me observe the composition of everything. The same objects rearranged offer a different formular. so too the aspects of light and shadow. Enough shadow offers contrast, too much and the subtle balance is lost.
So too in life, essentially light and dark are part of everything, the polarities of the stage of life.
In the Highlands where the clouds are thick gloomy towering grey layers, their merkyness is made relevant when the light battles through. Real bright light is an occassional thing, generally observed at a distance; many many miles, as the sheep runs, from the picnic. An architypal vision is the sun blazing throught the clouds, piercing the heavy pillars & plooms.
So too the light touches my heart. Not constant sunshine, not pitch black. But seen as relevant in the spectrum and balance.
Four O Clock in the morning has become a familiar surfacing time. As much as I am craving sleep, the solitude makes this time a special reflection
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