Megan (jehoshabeath) wrote,

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Alien in Babylonia

The other day, I was reading over the story bits I have posted online and I felt as though I really wanted to write again. It's not that I forgot these stories. I just haven't had the time to sit and think about them. Maybe, someday, though, I can finish them.

Are these meant to be my children?

My life and mind have always revolved around ideas. If you asked me what plans I had for my work and my family, I would say nothing. I was too busy shaping ideas and art in my mind to consider such things. I realize it's dangerous and immature, but nothing in this world drew me. Nothing.
My Platonic ladder has long since been upside down!

I like to think of common things in artistic and colorful ways.
And when I see artistic and colorful things, I feel satisfied.

Sometimes I feel like a wandering Levite in the years of the Babylonian captivity.
I have a heart for the work and a devotion to the art of it, but, the temple is no more. What does one do in such a time?

I am an alien in Babylonia.

Unlike a good Levite, though, I have a tendency to turn a bronze wonder into a Nehushtan.
These dangerous fascinations.

So, sitting here in this striped tent, what do I do? The telegraph is clicking. My hat is growing dusty. The fan is blowing the sand around. The hand-charted maps are spread across the table, weighted down by heavy bound books. And the faceted stones are glistening in the lamp light. Is this all a vision of things to come? Or is is merely a shadow?

I don't want to leave.
This is the struggle I enjoy.

Someday, though. There is a promise I can cling to if I can see past the walls of this tent - Revelation 1:6.
Tags: art, cassandra, me

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