simplicity.

I believe in simplicity. Truly I do. 

On most days, I believe in the simplicity of words. Stripped and washed cleaned of any extra padding, hung out to dry in the humid sun, where the descriptive and over-fluffed words melt into the air and disappear. I believe in the strength of a single word. And the strength of a period in ending a thought. I think saying

I love you.

is more powerful than saying a million words proclaiming how much you love someone. It is sweet and tender, and whenever I see those three words followed by a simple, happy period, I am overjoyed. Other people don't understand this part of me, instead they think I'm being short or abrupt. They don't see the sweetness of a few well-placed words. I think of words like God or Peace or Awe and I know, deep in my bones, the light and the beautiful music that accompanies those words.

I think this concept, for me, is derived by the way I see nature and life and the world around me.  My heart pounds when I see a lone tree in a field, or the small creek bustling over some rocks, or a little girl drawing smileys on the sidewalk. I remember seeing photographs of these quaint, beautiful farm houses. Where a girl walked through the corn fields. Where two girls laid down on the crisp grass and pointed at constellations. I remember the images of wild horses running on the sand, while the tide of the ocean rolls in.  I want to draw these moments in, form a patchwork quilt of memories sewn into my skin.  

In truth, I am a simple person. I think I could look at a river all day, and think about how a person saw it five, ten, twenty years ago. How where I'm standing a little boy once stood, learning about fly fishing from his father (who in turn had learned it from his father). I think of the way the river carved through the earth, etching its place in this world. And most of all, the river runs simply, moving through life in a gentle cascade of motion.