#lightiing

August 4th, 2020 8:31 pm

           The light had disappeared. What was left of the day was swallowed up by the impertinence  that the black cloud presumed. It came swiftly, covering up the remaining blue and slowly changing the air to a hint of winter cold. The breeze hit; it was a welcome return to when storms were feared and men hid in caves over fires that were lit.

           The rain made it hard to write. His hands were furiously trying to embark on some new adventure before the first big splashes. Yes there was responsibilities to be met, but the urge of the sudden serendipity was not to be ignored! Finally,

After three days

of writing in the light

and in the calm of the day

a storm had arrived

and was demanding to be heard

           What smells it brought. There was a persistent odor, the one of the farm. The dirt, the mud, the smell of manure, these were not to be forgotten in terms of connection. The moment was keen yet the meaning was stressed to only the manufacturer. Stress your meaning on phenomena without a consciousness, the voice that commands all said. You are trying to think about why this storm means something.

…..

           If I knew then,

           What I know now….

studio davidpompa combines volcanic rock and opal glass in new 'origo' collection