Monera Mason is a mischief-maker.  Her work includes: starting questionable cults with notorious software gurus, writing abstract fiction, catalyzing shenanigans which she deploys on unsuspecting bystanders in the City of Neon. 

Sunscapes in Impossible Bottles!

I find myself in awe of the sky often. For the last few days, I have been reminded of a year ago when I saw my first totality, hopefully, one of many. The sun was masked by the darkness of the moon, and the result was a madness of color in a world that became so unlike earth. The night insects came up to meet such marriages, the dogs howled, and the First Nations chanted. We were in the grassy land overlooking the now purple twilight of the lake beyond.  One of my best friends had found me the night before after a long time searching the prairie. 

I gave up a lot of connection and presence in single pursuit of what felt at the time like love, a mistake I shall not make again.  

What I remember the most is how looking up into the sky felt like I was on the wrong end of a telescope. The world was so muted and the sun, a tyrant in all the days we spent building, was so very small. Perspective had shifted, and I was now trapped in an impossible bottle. The world sometimes feels that way, glass blown around us, a specimen kept in all its fragile loveliness. 

I was there and felt alone, staring into the sky that was made as impossible as life often feels. Surrounded by a world of people who I will never really know, and none of that mattered. In that space of shadows and light, the entire spectrum fanned out into the pinprick above us, I was happy. 

I wanted to stare into that light forever, to be in this place between the moon and sun, in opposition to expectation, in the stillness of cacophony fading into a single breath. I found communion in resplendent beauty. 

Today has been a day of reminders, that God is present in all things; such Ignatian Spirtualiy is a place I would instead call home. Good work, in love with the world itself, is the truest north for me. 

Battles Personified

Backstories of Stuffy Imaginations