Forms of Inquiry

I leave the shore and slowly shuffle across the walkway into the mist. The illusion grows stronger as I approach the cloud. I climb aboard the blur and slowly the mountains on the horizon grow vague and far away. The cloud muffles voices as well as light; the other raincoated figures become formless and androgynous, vanishing in the haze. Perhaps this is what it feels like to lose one’s glasses. With the dulling of outer senses comes inner reflection. I feel calm and euphoric as I ascend the ethereal cloud with the other plastic-clad figures. As we climb through the fog, sunlight grows stronger and visibility greater. I break through the thinning nebulae and am suddenly wide awake on top of the cloud, looking down at its misty veil trailing across the lake. The amorphous figures now look human. Everything feels real, normal. I’m acutely aware that too many people are too close to me. The volume is too loud, the edges of everything too defined, features of faces are too sharp. I quietly sink back down into the depths of the stratus, searching for a quiet place to disappear. I close my eyes and stretch my arms out wide.

Inquiry

Blur Building