Stone

Sitting in a library, slowly acclimatising to working on a local government project again. Next to me is a solid stone wall, all lumps and ripples and slapped together cement. There is a solidity, a reassurance inherent in stone. It’s always just there being solid, like the earth but a bit more visible because we’ve sliced it out and put it somewhere we can easily see.

There is a violence to it’s rectangular form, it has been fashioned, beaten into shape to serve a purpose. Yet it speaks also of beauty, a beauty beyond a function (although there is a beauty in that); there is something in it that speaks to me obliquely, something it holds while my mind melts into new shapes and i look deeply into that dark pit of transformation. When i return, the stone will still be there, holding a steadfast solidity for me, being stone.