bridges - both real and metaphorical - have always been fruitful sources of play, anxiety, and in retrospect ... grace in the form of truth and a sort of baring of the work i have to do in this place.
they can be so skeletal and intense, so scruffy and unkempt, and then so tentative and unlikely . . .
but they require a focussed intensity and purposefulness in order to be built and to allow continued movement across otherwise wretched or discomforting circumstances . . . .
i remember seeing the runcorn bridge being built . . . across the canal. it started at both sides and was to meet in the middle. the image was burned into my subconscious and figured largely in many dreams and nightmares as the metaphor it was.
Getting to Yes! on the Bicycle
1 hour ago