Today, dear ones, something special:
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I wanted to send you some space, also- a few blank pages to consider. The idea of sending emptiness, of expressing empty space and open time, has been on my mind- since last summer, when I read Terry Tempest Williams' When Women Were Birds.
Her poetic and compelling story is this: her dying mother left her journals to her; when she later read them, after her mother was gone, she found the journals were blank, or rather, filled with empty space and time.
Ms Williams' on her book, here.
This light space is subtle, quiet, and pregnant. It holds the source of all beginnings, like the white spaces in Turner paintings: all atmosphere and sky, wind and firmament. All the oceans, the seas, the sea of possibilities.
