An Act Of Surrender

As it turns out, there is an indie film festival going on at the museum of art this week. It is a rare thing for a major art museum to have its doors open until midnight, and I spent the majority of my day and night there, seeing the exhibits, seeing the screenings. Between films late last night, I stepped outside and sat by this enormous fountain, surrounded by gardens and one of those famous LOVE sculptures by Robert Indiana. The water was illuminated an ethereal blueish white, and I watched it closely, the way it shoots up, aching for release, then crests and slides back down its own body, like an act of surrender. All the rising and falling, all the falling and rising. Life is like this, I thought, as I sat there sipping my lemonade, before heading back into the museum for the last film of the night. (Which was called Littlerock, and was very good.)

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About A B

"There is all this untouched beauty, the light, the dark, both running through me." -Over The Rhine
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