On going back and going on
At the beginning of December, I traveled out to the Denver metro area to visit with my grandparents and some good friends (though not as many as I always would want to see). It was cold and brisk and dry and I both had missed it all and not missed it all (brrrrr).
It struck me particularly hard this trip that I hadn’t been back in nearly 7 years and that, for me, everyone else there is still stuck in 7 years ago but that seven years is a long long time and time doesn’t actually stop for them either. So, it now would be as strange to move back as it was to move here; all one can do is keep going on.
The castles built in memory fall not into ruin
I was also reminded that I miss places nearly as much as I miss people, and I’ve missed the tall mountains by my side as I drive up and down the freeway. I miss the crispness of the air. I miss uncrowded roads (and oh, I miss having enough lanes). I miss the familiarity of the routes I have driven so many times.
Not long after starting what would become the World on Fire Mandala, I started a new design on some of the same principles with a spiky heart surrounded by lotus petals, some wire twisted around itself, all within sharp peaks pointing out.
It wasn’t until I put in the orange fading to dark deep red that I realized I was recreating memories of sunsets in the Rockies, where the shadows fall on the high desert foothills while the peaks are lit up.