I wouldn’t try to paint a sunset with words, it is beyond imagination [Willie Wonka voice]...pure imagination...[/Willie Wonka voice]. I’d find myself disgusted with my pitiful attempts to capture such a moment with mere words. A picture is worth a thousand words, they say; a sunset is worth a thousand languages, I reply. A beautiful blend of shades and hues, never ending just transitioning into the hard horizon. You can’t quite define the boundaries overhead, you just have to take the overall event en total. Giving closure to another day, closing the chapter, putting that book away…or at least starting a new page for the evening.
I’ve found myself brought to tears by the beauty of a sunset. Not so much from fear that my eyes will never again find such beauty, as everyday blesses me with another image – not more beautiful, or spectacular, just different in an equally beautiful way. I think of my life, of what I’ve done so far, have I made a mark on the world since the last time I watched this afternoon delight? If so, was it a mark I’d be proud of, or ashamed of? I’ll leave that debate for sunrise, when it’s time to take the hope and promise of another day and think of what can be accomplished. For now, I’ll just enjoy what the world has to offer, my ass sitting above ground for another 24 hrs and my soul cleansed, even renewed, with another sunset. They have a somewhat spiritual sense about them, how they balance two halves of our lives and ease the change from one side to the other.
Each one marking that imagined line between daylife and nightlife, a crossing over of the rainbow. Bringing blessed closure to a day of trials and tribulations, of impossible demands, of day of unfulfilled dreams. But that is what the night is for – for dreaming, and living the dreams. The fall of the sun, the fading of the ever watchful eye, that spotlight of the world’s stage in which you find yourself under scrutiny and the judgement of so many critics. The coming of the night, the cool darkness that covers all blemishes, all mistakes forgotten for the time being. No longer tied to the expectations family, of peers, of co-workers, able to become who you dream of being. A physical transformation perhaps, but most certainly an emotional one. You are not a slave, you are not a number, you are an individual – you are the individual you see yourself as, not as the others want you to be. Crossing over the solar timeline, free to be whatever you wish to be.
Everyday, no matter what sins I’ve commited, or been suffered to endure, I find myself reveling in that fading of light, that coming of night. Part of me wishes for the moment to remain ...[Jackson Browne voice]Oh won’t you sta-a-a-y, just a little bit long-er? Oh, please, please sta-a-a-y. Say you will...[/Jackson Browne voice]. Knowing there is safety, security, staying in the light. Knowing there can be freedom, new experiences waiting in the night.
That’s how it goes, sometimes it brings a pleasant promise, others it bears a hellish omen. But always, the night will come as the day fades. That cusp, that brink between daylight and moonlight. Teetering on the blade of madness, of wondering is my dayself the real one? Is the free spirit I release at night the being I dream of being, or just the demon I release when no one is watching? Nightfall brings freedom, to which we carry our sense of responsibility, of accountability, of reason – sense which we feel naked without, which chains us to the ‘real world’. Our tether of reasoning, a leash on the animal of instinct, of passion and lust (for life?). Daytime rigidity, follow the rules, behave, be what we want you to be, conform. Always the daytime nagging voice in our heads, barking madly at the insanity – growling to be released. Nightime liberties, explorations, experimentations. Always the nighttime nagging voice in our heads, mothers voice with her rules, bosses voice on expectations, always a voice marching you towards order in the midst of your chaotic reign.
I suppose I’ll find myself at sunset, somewhere between the obeying citizen and the flowing free spirit. There is a beauty in that, the blend of hues and shades, the blend of which we’re made. Always transitioning from one state of mind to another, from being controlled by the world to being controlled by none but myself. I am a sunset. Forever evolving and tumbling towards my own dark horizon. I’m never the same two days in a row, but I am always beautiful and unique. I am a spectacular, spiritual, and somewhat confused sunset.
===========================
Author's Note: I apologize for this going in two directions. I originally wanted to represent the beauty of sunsets, and then grew into comparing the night and day with the two sides most of us have. And I mucked my way to this.
[ 07 February 2002: Message edited by: Hemlock ]
I’ve found myself brought to tears by the beauty of a sunset. Not so much from fear that my eyes will never again find such beauty, as everyday blesses me with another image – not more beautiful, or spectacular, just different in an equally beautiful way. I think of my life, of what I’ve done so far, have I made a mark on the world since the last time I watched this afternoon delight? If so, was it a mark I’d be proud of, or ashamed of? I’ll leave that debate for sunrise, when it’s time to take the hope and promise of another day and think of what can be accomplished. For now, I’ll just enjoy what the world has to offer, my ass sitting above ground for another 24 hrs and my soul cleansed, even renewed, with another sunset. They have a somewhat spiritual sense about them, how they balance two halves of our lives and ease the change from one side to the other.
Each one marking that imagined line between daylife and nightlife, a crossing over of the rainbow. Bringing blessed closure to a day of trials and tribulations, of impossible demands, of day of unfulfilled dreams. But that is what the night is for – for dreaming, and living the dreams. The fall of the sun, the fading of the ever watchful eye, that spotlight of the world’s stage in which you find yourself under scrutiny and the judgement of so many critics. The coming of the night, the cool darkness that covers all blemishes, all mistakes forgotten for the time being. No longer tied to the expectations family, of peers, of co-workers, able to become who you dream of being. A physical transformation perhaps, but most certainly an emotional one. You are not a slave, you are not a number, you are an individual – you are the individual you see yourself as, not as the others want you to be. Crossing over the solar timeline, free to be whatever you wish to be.
Everyday, no matter what sins I’ve commited, or been suffered to endure, I find myself reveling in that fading of light, that coming of night. Part of me wishes for the moment to remain ...[Jackson Browne voice]Oh won’t you sta-a-a-y, just a little bit long-er? Oh, please, please sta-a-a-y. Say you will...[/Jackson Browne voice]. Knowing there is safety, security, staying in the light. Knowing there can be freedom, new experiences waiting in the night.
That’s how it goes, sometimes it brings a pleasant promise, others it bears a hellish omen. But always, the night will come as the day fades. That cusp, that brink between daylight and moonlight. Teetering on the blade of madness, of wondering is my dayself the real one? Is the free spirit I release at night the being I dream of being, or just the demon I release when no one is watching? Nightfall brings freedom, to which we carry our sense of responsibility, of accountability, of reason – sense which we feel naked without, which chains us to the ‘real world’. Our tether of reasoning, a leash on the animal of instinct, of passion and lust (for life?). Daytime rigidity, follow the rules, behave, be what we want you to be, conform. Always the daytime nagging voice in our heads, barking madly at the insanity – growling to be released. Nightime liberties, explorations, experimentations. Always the nighttime nagging voice in our heads, mothers voice with her rules, bosses voice on expectations, always a voice marching you towards order in the midst of your chaotic reign.
I suppose I’ll find myself at sunset, somewhere between the obeying citizen and the flowing free spirit. There is a beauty in that, the blend of hues and shades, the blend of which we’re made. Always transitioning from one state of mind to another, from being controlled by the world to being controlled by none but myself. I am a sunset. Forever evolving and tumbling towards my own dark horizon. I’m never the same two days in a row, but I am always beautiful and unique. I am a spectacular, spiritual, and somewhat confused sunset.
===========================
Author's Note: I apologize for this going in two directions. I originally wanted to represent the beauty of sunsets, and then grew into comparing the night and day with the two sides most of us have. And I mucked my way to this.
[ 07 February 2002: Message edited by: Hemlock ]
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