An Angel with Forever Wings
An Angel with Forever Wings It's not that I am fascinated by death, it's just that I'm intrigued by the monuments that we erect for the dead: tombs that lead to the underworld, a funnel with statues falling in, a young girl eternally sleeping in a rocking chair, angels pushing forward mid-air reminding me of superman... They all have this ethereal air around them, in particular those bathed by daylight. It goes without saying that they seem otherworldly, like a somber superhero, or one that has come to help but is under an oath of silence. Some statues beckon from their quiet place, while others seem to wait patiently. For what? For us to notice them? The spirits of the statues may not be there anymore. Some have risen to our minds, above our heads in flight finding peace. Theirs is the quiet. Theirs is the eternity of glowing molecules, shifting in the light and alighting no where. Theirs is the life/death bend. One moment they sparkle, the next bending back to dust. I t...