When I was a little girl, my mother would take us on trips to the art museum in Cleveland.

The building itself was magnificent; the floors were cut from the finest marble, and polished brass (hugging) every staircase.

The most popular of rooms housed the works of the 17th century European masters -Zurbarán, Poussin, Caravaggio – artists known for their ability to emulate life through a layering of oils. These were the artists who understood the interplay of light upon shadow; effortlessly communicating mood through depths.

Most were attracted to the brutal honesty within these works; the ability to see and communicate life just as it is.

But, I was intrigued by something far deeper still. That was, the ability of light to permeate any darkness. In this sense, all else is transfixed – only the light dares to move.

And begging the truth, as Sir Arthur Conan Doyle once observed – that perhaps we, ourselves, are not luminous; rather, we are the bold conductors of the light within all.

In peace, my loves…

Namaste ❤️