sky and light and shadows
by The Dreamer
i will never cease to be amazed by the sky.
it really is the most beautiful thing ever. true beauty comes in the form of being awed by it every single time it is experienced or observed, like it’s something new every single time. i’ll never get tired of looking at the sky.
“This kind of confidence that comes from there is like the confidence of the sky. All right, and now it’s dark outside, but you know if you went up in a plane, even in the stormiest of days the sky is brilliant blue underneath.
So when you look at the sky and it’s made a rainbow and it’s absolutely gorgeous, there’s no question that the sky is up there going, “Ha, did you see my rainbow?” Or when it’s a terrible, bleak, you know, gray, gloomy day, that the sky is going to apologize. No, the sky just is, because the sky sees the impermanence of the clouds, and the impermanence of the rainbows, and you have to develop an inner state of mind that’s as impervious to all the good shit and bad shit that happens to you as the sky is to the weather.”
woke up early today because i slept in pretty early. but instead of getting work done, i found myself looking out the window, towards the heavens. it started off as a little cheeky peek of orange, a deep, blood-orange staining just the outlines of the buildings around the perimeter. above, it was still a vast mass of inky darkness.
then, the grey curtains slowly inches its way up, each time revealing another colour, and then another, and then another. they were at first distinct shades of purple, red, orange, yellow. and then the hues started blending in with one another, broad strokes across the horizon that saw no start and no end, expanding further and further and further until the monotonous shades were completely consumed by colour.
like a performance for only those who cared enough to watch, the noises as the city awoke begun. little birds chirping, the vehicles screeching against asphalt, the lights of the building flickering on, the clouds finding their positions on the stage, adorned in their fluffy glory.
it was incredible, really. watching the transition, a different scene every time i spared a blink.
at the start, there was no sun. but when it came along, it stole the limelight. (scratch that. it was the limelight.)
the morning sun is a source of vitality, holding so much possibility and grace in the way it leaps and arches across the sky. i’ve never seen anything so young and alive. i love the display of pure, unabashed passion in this side of nature.
if someone asks me what the most beautiful, most precious thing is to me, i would say: the moments night turns into day.
because i love the night. i love the quietness, the secrecy, the way my thoughts flow and flow and flow without feeling naked as compared to when the daylight seems to expose all my inadequacies.
but i love the day too, because of its warmth, its liveliness, its passion.
so naturally, my favourite moments are basking in the transition from night to day. those moments are when everything feels a little surreal, dreamy, untrue, like being stuck in a limbo between dream and reality. it is when i feel calm, level, but at the same time, it’s when my emotions come at full force, unrestrained. i love the liberation in grey areas like these (though it’s hardly grey; it’s really a burst of colours.)
and i love the way shadows are casted, making my surroundings more beautiful than they normally seem in my eyes. rainbow flecks across the ceiling when reflected off my chandeliers. the silhouette of the window bars imprinted against the lace thrown over my piano. the soft edge of light slashing across the living room, the dust motes existing and dancing in these circumferences.
everything is so beautiful, so wonderful, so amazing.
the sky reminds me what it is like to be completely myself, and to be completely okay with it.
i feel like i’m melting.