Fragmented sun

The weather has always affected my state of mind. And with so much gloom, rain, and darkness this summer in addition with the pains and heaviness and sure things falling through I have been subjected to a feeling of fragmentation. Today I do not feel whole, complete, but instead separated from so much of myself. As if the glue that keeps me together has been washed away by all this rain. 

It has been an odd summer. Only a few days of warmth. Lately every night as we sleep with some fresh air I feel cool and chilled. I wake up to the fog in the palatine forest and a sense that summer just decided to never come here. I prefer cooler weather, but I still need a bit of warmth. I need to store it for the long hard winters that I have experienced here so far. 

But back to the sun. I have been holding on to the small boro-ish discharged magic sun. I never had the right place for it. And as I was preparing circles for the larger cloth that I want to make during The Magic Diaries, I decided I should make a place for this sun, even if it were to be left alone. So now it is the lenght of my forearm and awaiting to be embroidered. Maybe a face? 

Whispers for the Sun

 As a boy he had always been mystified by the sun. The sun seemed to summon him, beckon him to be its observer. He had felt a deep connection, a burning link that joined him to the sun. 

Every day he forces his eyes to watch it closely. He ignored the pain and the tears flowing down his cheeks. He desperately wanted to watch the swirling flows of color that created the Sun. They seemed to be alive, dancing and generating heat with their melodic and graceful movements.

One day, as he laid staring up at the sun, the messenger came. A fellow being of the sky. His fur shone as brightly as the Sun, and seemed to also contain the melodic flows of light and color.

"One day you shall reach the sun." he said

"One day you shall join the flows of time and sound." 

And with that he disappeared.

The observer, now wrinkled and crooked with time held on to the words of the messenger. He had given his destiny great thought. He had asked himself many time how he could reach the sun. 

"A ladder" he thought, and spent the rest of his life building a ladder tall enough to reach the Sun. 

As his stiff hands pulled the ladder out to begin his climb up the messenger reappeared. 

"You only need your voice to reach the sun. Release your song and join the others. Your time has come to observe no more."

The observer observed one last time as he whispered his soul to the graceful Sun. He was one with all, and moved along with the melodic waves of his destiny.

By Wooni