As
many of you, I have been trying to make sense of a senseless tragedy and to
make understandable a world that is predominantly nonsensical. I have felt
listless, hopeless and irrelevant. How can I let this experience destroy
celebration and cloud hope?
Where
are our leaders and our mentors? Hourly, I ask myself how can I be relevant in
my daily rituals in the face of such monumental tragedy and a world that might
end on friday?
But
here I am again with my fingers tender, cut and bruised. I struggle to make
something beautiful the way a weed finds a ray of light through the crack in
the sidewalk and moves towards the
sun.
In
the light I want to render that beauty, the only common recipe in a stew of
chaos among all people.
Beauty
surely represents all that is good.
If you create: a sound, an image, or a moment of laughter, the hope
shall win and exist in all eternity.
That
is the dream for which I live. As we dream, we live. DREAM ON!
