on being

Shafts of light streamed through the curtains of red, stained the colour of rust with time, she bathed a while in the warmth and thought thoughts.

Where does time go when it leaves, why do we go where we go, stay where we stay, know what we know?

Thighs sore from her early morning run, she crouches and rises, stretching her arms and yawning, hands on hips…slips her face on and ambles outside. The overgrowth the perfect place for reflection, little webs weaving memories, busy bees circling reminding her of life’s cycles. The seasons. The reasons.

Seasons of love, laughter, fusion. Reasons for hope, peace, sometimes disillusion.

The day was well into it’s song and she well into her years, the sun and moon and tide, well into their rythmns…we come and we go.

Like the sun and the moon and the tide. We ebb and we flow.

One moment a sense of nothingness permeates the air, followed by a sense of awe that we exist.

Love the idea of just being. Not doing. Just being. Letting the air flow around us. Observing it. Breathing it. Being part of it and yet remaining apart from it.

on being

© Karin Taylor

Joined February 2008

Artwork Comments

  • Rocky Loder
  • © Karin Taylor
  • KBritt
  • © Karin Taylor
  • TheWanderingBoo
  • © Karin Taylor
  • Mui-Ling Teh
  • © Karin Taylor
  • JaneRoberts
  • © Karin Taylor
  • Matt Penfold
  • © Karin Taylor
  • sandra22
  • © Karin Taylor
  • © Karin Taylor
  • eoconnor
  • © Karin Taylor
  • Peter Shanahan
  • © Karin Taylor
  • takemeawaycn
  • © Karin Taylor

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