There’s such a quiet emptiness around, that almost anything at all could fall into it.

The possibilities of fullness are endless. Also, the possibilities of nothingness are frighteningly never ending: an eternal abyss.

Of course, nothing remains a constant. Eventually the emptiness will be filled, whether by accident or intent. A thing, previously outside of the emptiness will fall over, knock itself in, like a magnet, find its new place; its new begin.

Then chaos will commence:

desired chaos;

a shift

a shadow

a light

There’s such a quiet emptiness around, that almost anything at all could fall into it.

Like a child I’ve turned my back on darkness; refuse to look at loss. Instead, I choose to play.

I want to make pretend trains from recycled cardboard boxes, power them with fart noises and leave trails of homemade fluoro goo on all the armchairs.

I want to jump so high on a trampoline that my skin scrapes the sky and my bounce sends you flying high in triple, your delightful squeals matched by mine; we bond. You fall and roll to one side, then just as quickly back again; unpredictable.

In the summer heat of the afternoon we lay on our backs in the cool of the lounge room, faces upturned. We photo-filter ourselves into scary dragons, light-filled faeries, alien heads; your giggle so infectious.

At 6, your giggle holds all the wisdom; your heart so huge you can’t contain it; an over-excitement, a shared joy.

When we have to say goodbye, we cannot bear it; we giggle and wiggle away.

Like a child I’ve turned my back on darkness; refuse to look at loss. Instead, I choose to play.

For RJB and all my little people far away xx