And what can I say if all is horizon?
How can the roaring sound of a voice carry the silence behind?
How to convey that which is not accessible?
How to touch what has no substance?
How to explain the mystery that existed before we put trees and rocks and sky?
How can I make any sense of the swirling turbulence?
It moves and it moves and it moves.
And the turbulence is unending.
And I try to grasp it with my words.
I try to cast a net of silence.
And the second I think I almost got it, it dissipates.
And I turn around and walk away, and behind me is the turbulence.
What can I say if it’s all endless?
Why do you listen if it’s all senseless?
Why put any meaning into these noises that I make?
Photography by: Sharla Sanchez