“There is strong shadow where there is much light.” Goethe
The darkness doesn’t bother her.
If anything, it saves her the trouble of closing her eyes, wasting a conscious muscle movement on a triviality. With them open and covered in darkness, she can focus on what she sees in her mind: a whirlwind of activity, images impossible for even the most gifted painter to capture. There are vivid colors, dynamic movement, and beautiful music that can’t be described with any words she did not invent herself.
She stands on the bow of a fisherman’s boat, mimicking a still she’s seen in several viewings of a certain romantic film. But instead of being supported by her young lover, she is alone, feeling the salt spray, as the whales breach on either side. The gulls are monstrous, prehistoric things. Their feathers are dark, sharp as razors, and seem to cut the air itself. But their cries don’t scare her. The world that moves in this darkness is unhindered by reality and logic.
Then her world disappears in a burst of light.
“Evelyn! What did I tell you?”
Evie has clenched her eyes tight, in hopes that a little bit more darkness will make her head stop hurting, or maybe bring the world she left back. She doesn’t respond right away, which just encourages her mother to grow angrier.
“Evelyn!”
She opens one eye and snarls. “What?”
Her mother glares. “Don’t talk to me like that, young lady. I have asked you politely not to sit in the dark like this. It’s bad for your eyes.”
“It can’t be worse than turning on the light when I’m not ready for it.”
With a dramatic roll of her eyes, Evie’s mother continues. “And when that didn’t work, I told you politely not to sit in the dark. So what does that mean?”
“You’ll stop saying anything about it?” Evie says with a smirk.
“I’ll stop being polite about it.” She surveyed the room. “This place is a mess. No wonder you turn the lights out. Clean it up.”
Evie harrumphed.
At this, her mother’s expression softened. “Hey, guess what?”
“What?”
“I love you, sweetie.” She punctuated this with a kiss on the little girl’s forehead. As much as Evie wanted to resist, she couldn’t help but giggle at the gesture.
“More light!” - Goethe’s last words
The darkness doesn’t bother her.
If anything, it saves her the trouble of closing her eyes, wasting a conscious muscle movement on a triviality. With them open and covered in darkness, she can focus on what she sees in her mind: a whirlwind of activity, images impossible for even the most gifted painter to capture. There are vivid colors, dynamic movement, and beautiful music that can’t be described with any words she did not invent herself.
She stands on the bow of a fisherman’s boat, mimicking a still she’s seen in several viewings of a certain romantic film. But instead of being supported by her young lover, she is alone, feeling the salt spray, as the whales breach on either side. The gulls are monstrous, prehistoric things. Their feathers are dark, sharp as razors, and seem to cut the air itself. But their cries don’t scare her. The world that moves in this darkness is unhindered by reality and logic.
Then her world disappears in a burst of light.
“Evelyn! What did I tell you?”
Evie has clenched her eyes tight, in hopes that a little bit more darkness will make her head stop hurting, or maybe bring the world she left back. She doesn’t respond right away, which just encourages her mother to grow angrier.
“Evelyn!”
She opens one eye and snarls. “What?”
Her mother glares. “Don’t talk to me like that, young lady. I have asked you politely not to sit in the dark like this. It’s bad for your eyes.”
“It can’t be worse than turning on the light when I’m not ready for it.”
With a dramatic roll of her eyes, Evie’s mother continues. “And when that didn’t work, I told you politely not to sit in the dark. So what does that mean?”
“You’ll stop saying anything about it?” Evie says with a smirk.
“I’ll stop being polite about it.” She surveyed the room. “This place is a mess. No wonder you turn the lights out. Clean it up.”
Evie harrumphed.
At this, her mother’s expression softened. “Hey, guess what?”
“What?”
“I love you, sweetie.” She punctuated this with a kiss on the little girl’s forehead. As much as Evie wanted to resist, she couldn’t help but giggle at the gesture.
“More light!” - Goethe’s last words