Week 134

He wiped a flying strand of hair out of his eyes and squinted. “I believe we are done, my sweet.”

Magnifyed by its seclusion, the mystical vibrancy of this place pulsated, an energy mirroring the bright spring bubbling up from an impossibly deep sapphire abyss. Like a great pool of gemstones, this fountain was hidden from its people for years. Only those with a connection, the right dogma and right amount of power could attend this spectacular show or feel the gelid waters caress their flesh.

Laert held me close and we looked at this otherworldly place once again. For our honeymoon, Laert and I were able to visit an Albania much different than the one his family fled from more than 30 years ago. In that time, the people to whom these national treasures belonged were never able to see these things. The greedy government kept its people trapped in a world of fear that conjures up parallels today.

I must admit that I have self censored this past few months, seeing the complex drama unfolding on our online social spheres and turning away in disgust. This particular post has been waiting. Waiting for a voice. Waiting for a chance to remind us all that we need each other, left and right. We need to have conflict and different thoughts and to work together to make a better life though that respectful clashing. Contrary opinions should not be silenced but protected as opportunities to grow together. This place, named Syri Blue, means Blue Eye. It is a real representation of the unreal beauty of this world, and a reminder in a thriving community there must be many thoughts, that beauty and the freedom to appreciate it belongs to all of us, not just those of one dogma. In patient exploration truth can be found, the sweet flowing beauty of one crystal clear seeing Eye.

Syri Blue

18x14

Oil Painting on Primed Hardwood Panel