Day 3: Looking Through the Clouds

Looking Through the Clouds

Day 3:

Looking through the Clouds

In all honesty, it was hard to find something positive in the world yesterday. Everybody was in a bad mood – electricity bills had arrived; the astronomical tax was a stern reminder of the economic crisis. One of the reasons we don’t turn our heat on. We keep the fireplaces going (well, those who have fireplaces) while distributing scratchy wool blankets and sharing shots of whiskey with our neighbors.

The low clouds hanging over our heads and blocking out the sun didn’t help much.

All I could see was a wall of rain coming at me from across the Corinthian Gulf, felt the wind pressing against my face and knotting my hair. I took in the stressed out, chain smoking faces around me and felt my very being surrender to an uncomfortable place, that place often mistaken for strength: numbness.

Last night I vented my frustration about not being able to find something positive to my dear friend and mentor – my very source of power when I am low on soul – whom I’ve spent countless hours with, analyzing art, dance, and film.

I showed her photos I had taken of clouds. The clouds were moving very rapidly through the mountains, and though I had taken hundreds of shots not one of them “felt right”.

But then she brought up a fabulous point.


The cloud gatherer.

“What about an allegory?”  she suggested.

“Mountains are there,” she continued “Mountains are strong, emblematic. But clouds are soft but determined.”


“Mountains are there…..but they don’t move.” I said. “They are sturdy, you know that when you wake up they will be there..clouds float, flutter. They are here one moment and then they are gone..”

“They drop a little rain, give a little life!”

“The nurturer of life.”



And today, under another low cloud, I ventured out in a thunderstorm and discovered the first purple flowers of Spring.






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