“When I woke, the morning light was just slipping in front of the stars and I was covered in blossoms.” – Mary Olive, from Blue Iris
There’s always been a deep desire within my soul to run. I feel it in every fibre, every atom, every crevice and fleshed crack. To escape to unknown possibility, without destination or desolate end. Where the air remains warm, slow and unhurried. To wander in a kind of nomadic existence, tethering on the side of both light and dark, fleeing to some kind of self-induced euphoria. Where she grows in radiance, impenetrable desire and luminous ecstasy, wearing her bona fide sins like stars that illuminate the endless night.