On Travel

God is the one who painted the skies with color. He hung white and silver stars against a black-blue backdrop of night. He painted the land and sea with color. Greens and browns and everything in between. His art is alive with the breath of life. Some say so, anyway.

But who takes the time to reflect upon what Man paints? Walk amongst the gathering clouds off of the Great Lakes in the early hours after the sun falls below the horizon. City lights, oranges and whites, blues and sparse greens splatter up onto clouded regions like a painter throwing his paints against a clean canvas.

Cleveland is forever stuck in my mind. A painting; I look down upon the world from thousands of feet up in the air. Watching the world where water gently rubs into the edge of land and Man’s colors splash upward, contrasted against the ever- darkening whites of the clouds and the increasing black of night ensuing.

This. This is where breath of life resides. Somewhere between the divine heavenly canvas and Man’s divinely-inspired artistic echo.

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