TO BE AIR

I did not choose to be air because I think I am like it. Or my personality for that matter. I stepped outside being greeted by air, warm and soft and smelling wonderfully. I made a silly joke saying: “I am air. I am done!” turning quickly back to the barn door. Of course then I did go for my walk to find the more that human species I was going to turn into. And the air did not leave me, intrigued me rather. I am air, yes! I want to be air. I am O2, CO2, N2. I am already a symbiosis. And I am traveling, traveling, traveling. The sun moves me, literally, all the time. I stroke every surface I pass, inter-acting, changing, being changed. Remember how your sliced apples turn golden brown, yellow bronze? … I move up and down and up and down to eventually stroke the cheeks of a deer, the wings of a crow, to wrestle with humans by the shore. Or I linger on the surface of the vast ocean, waiting, swaying. If I have any enemies, if you want to call them this, then they are small like me, disrupting my innermost structure. Only if you build impenetrable walls around me will I cease to be. One of my closest friends are green and brown and white and innumerable other colors. I call them friends because they tear me up, break me into pieces only to send me on a new journey across and through the atmosphere. I like to sneak into everything, you know. It is quite natural to me because no one can really see me. I am invisible. And yet, from time to time, when I shake hands with sand, what wonderful shapes appear…

This drawing was also created here at Saari residence. It reminds me of air as being playful and forever transformative.