Cresting each new slithering ridge merely seeks a scalable vastness, as its floor & ceiling match wits to play at their maddening equilibrium. Indeed, even the loose, windswept sands- which are everywhere strewn heavenwards in glittering dissolve- begin to blur the division between the rising dunes & the descending sky. The Lord Sun’s reign suffers no such division.
Realize that we’re on the cusp of something here- another time, perhaps.. A special kind of culture, made of malleable things like ideas without being ideological. An electric time, made of moments that move you. An historical shift, like the one you felt on middle school field trips; serious mystique to bloom significant consequence..
