To Pass Through

I’m enjoying making and wearing big, airy hoops lately. When I wear them, I have a constant sense of the way the wind moves through them — as though they are wind chimes giving slightly, this way and that, to invisible currents — and I try to envision myself moving through the world in the same way. Light and airy. Passing though. Direct but soft. Smooth and elegant. Directional drifting dictated by things I cannot see and my own inklings and intuitions. Never off my course. Always fluttering in a chosen direction. A star in the sky. A leaf on a creek. A sagebrush in the breeze.

Wear them. You’ll see what I mean.

+Of The West+