I see story written everywhere, in the earth, in the sky, in our exquisite form and functions, at the market and at the theatre, in scraped knees and scrapped lives, in triumph and pride, broken hearts and bent over limbs.
When I came upon this place, pictured, just a little ways from my home, it was the story of beauty being closer than I thought and inviting me in. I needed that and even still ached to absorb it, to believe it—in a practical way….