The edge of understanding. The risk of not being heard. Miscommunication, non-comprehension. Farthest away from the best known.
Between. Childhood and adult life. Daylight and night light. Romanticism and practicality. Choice and imprisonment. Living with our demise inside us.
Almost kitsch. Almost broken. Almost perfect. Almost.
Being at the edge heightens the experience. Think or feel here. Unambivalent. You may be called upon to make a decision at any moment. Forward or backward? This is plot.
We use the two flat sides of the paper to communicate; its four edges are useless, invisible until they cut. Sometimes we remember they are there. Aware.
An expanse of sand. An endless ocean. Horizons of water and land. If you are a fish, arriving at the land is perilous. If you breathe air and can swim, you rely on stamina and luck. If you fear the cold, your toes may wander just to the surf but not into it. Which side you are on depends on where you are coming from.
Sand pushed together to make a labyrinth makes edges. Walk with me.
Stinson Beach, 23 June 2013