Once upon a time our once upon a times were recorded in cornerstones, foundations, Corinthian columns and colored shapes in glass and stone
And in those spires and tiled porticoes was expressed the story and extent of our reach from the mire of our own brutal natures toward the vaulted ceilings of heaven
Toils, temptations and triumphs writ in intricate relief, on faces unwavering and backs unbroken

Look around you
The stories have not changed
But the telling has exploded in a cascade of subtle variations

Sunlight through the waterfall
Droplets of light dancing with the endless voices of the colorless night

Have you listened to the stories, to the yearning beneath, to the questions
Are we still begging the gods’ favor?
The hands of the almighty have covered us in glory, yet do we shrink in shame? Cowering before the brilliance of our soul

Our fractured voices, blowing softly through the intricate spaces between memory and the moment,
are made to capture light, to extract form, to liberate color, to expose the essence, aching for unfettered daylight

Look around you
These visions belong to you
We do not see the shape of beauty from some isolated mountain
Inspiration is not the province of the hermit
however remote her cave,
we share the same milk, suckling at the breast of the communal muse
We are the artist, we are the work
We are the violence that birthed the first morning
We are the sleep beyond the end of night