20 Nov Thoughts from the sky
Hold me tight and tell me stories
Under the covers share with me,
About your past, about childhood,
Rub my back, explain what your day is like
Did you laugh today? Love?
Honey, dream with me.
What will the future hold?
What do you desire more than anything?
Hold me right and tell me stories.
Something about planes sparks the romantic in me, lighting a fire for dramatics. Something about seeing the world so far below me makes my hurts so gorgeously painful, blessings so painfully clear. Being in the air on my way to a new place; new people waiting, it makes me come alive with inspiration. I want to gush about love, no matter how fucked I am from mine, I want to write about gratitude in the altitude. Perhaps I will never know why I have such a physical reaction to leaving the earth, maybe it is merely a lack of oxygen, but I don’t truely care because whatever it is, it makes me feel alive. My heart comes alive, singing with joy as I fly away from the known, into the adventure.
As though in an airplane I soar high, not seeing the world but connecting with it. Truly living, experiencing all the joy offered my way by this beautiful universe. Yet once again the same as an airplane at the first strike of rough skies I am shot into turbulence. No control, stomach dropping, gasping. I am reminded that when one flies so high there is only one way to go, down. This balance is almost as fragile as I was, so recently that I still have the scars, cut so deep in my very skin I doubt I will ever forget the time my plane came crashing down. Scars can be ugly, painful creatures that perch on your body, telling secrets to strangers, sharing stories with loved ones yet they can also be a gentle kiss, asking your heart to never take moments for granted, calming your mind that you will fly again because your crash is over for now.
** All photos taken by Brandon Conley