Names and Things

Sometimes you hear a word, and you don't always know exactly whyyy, but you know it has to be a name.

Like Rabbit.

Scott, ever the patient one to bear the caprices of whatever idea strikes me, has allowed me to give him the nickname Rabbit.

After-the-fact, there are plentiful reasons to call him that, mostly resulting from inside jokes between us, but at the time it occurred to me to call him Rabbit, I didn't have any real reason besides that it sounded like it would fit him well.

Even ignoring the meaning of the word, it just sounded good.

I dunno'... if he be Brer Rabbit, does it make me Brer Fox? Jah, I know Brer = Brother. Forgetting that, even so.

It will be a subject for some musing on my part.

Well, that was the "Names" part of this post.
Now for the "Things" part.

There is light all over the flipping place. It occurred to me today just how ridiculously MUCH light there is. You can't live without experiencing it, feeling its influence. You can be blind, and even then light has meaning. The breath of the sun on your face as you step from behind a tall building on the fourth of May... it's tangible light. Your face tilts up and your palms flex involuntarily, flesh acting as leaves to catch that sustaining energy, that caress of countless billions of photons hammering the nuclei of your constituent atoms.

I am fascinated by the way light moves, the way shadows take on their own independence from the objects they follow, painting the sidewalk and dancing on walls.
The golden hour of pre-sunset, the wash of rich yellow-orange across even the greyest of buildings, creating a palette of ochres and umbers and siennas where before only blank spaces existed... it's glorious, and it helps me remember why architecture is so vital a thing for me.
It's experiential. It's alive. It touches the senses and gives back to the things that make it exist at all. Even the most ridiculously arse-ugly, brutalist structure has immense beauty in the golden hour. At sunrise, even the vilest of shapes casts an unrivaledly gorgeous silhouette.

Each time I step outdoors into sunlight, I feel like I'm breathing new air, and it reminds me of those things and people who are most utterly necessary for me to live. Sunlight is my direct metaphor for Scott's presence in my life.
I love light.
I need light.
I am just this curious, tiny, oddly mobile tree, searching for the perfect open place to catch the soft, gentle, loving kisses of the sun on my hands and face. The Earth holds me up, God in the rain teaches me to love warmth, the wind sings to me, and the sun waits, waits for that perfect, breathtaking moment when I'll look up and smile and just be alive while it shines....