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Inevitable - Blog Posts
09
The Messengers pad through scorched fields, their targets in their view. They, unlike the Shepherd, do not pity the husks nor their stories, they do as told.
Their masks merely accessories to the red beauty, made to contain themselves. Their faces fragile beauty.
Their targets, often unconscious, always receive : you cannot escape from what makes you. They become unaware of the process, shielded from the pain. A mercy.
Over time they begin to forget, it is of no worries, they do not need to remember.
It is easier when they forget.
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The Messengers return home once the job is done, there is nothing for them there.
I lost a good friend and a sister. Here we are in happier moments. Tough loss. Her husband and her lived in Mary Pickford’s Hollywood cottage.
I told her that every time Leon Russell’s music plays I’ll think of her just before she passed. . 💔
Gorgeous circle of mushrooms almost two weeks after they emerged.