Day breaks like a soft red wound in the eastern sky. It turns the wall in my bedroom rose-gold and I know that it is time to wake because the day is a living thing asking for attention in the softest of ways. . Speaking of softness, i was watching the good friend of Damar Hamlin—a fellow football man, on a tv news clip doing everything in his power not to crack open as he discussed his friendship with, and his visit to Demar in the hospital. The man looked like he had decided to turn his face into a standing slab of granite—nothing to see here. But, the story in his voice was a love song.The story in the center of his chest was a sob and a breakdown and trembling wonder at the miraculous fragility of the mighty human body in the unrelenting presence of the time. Yooooo. I felt so ______for this dude. To have to hold his tears in like a woman in her 10 month of pregnancy trying to keep the baby inside. He looked like he wanted to break open and spill all over the counter. To let the hurt feelings, the love feelings, the hopeful feelings and all of the other feelings just be feelings felt. But, he was hero. He didn’t let the moment break him open on national tv. He sucked his own face into his own face and we, out here in the land of the witness, we wept for him. We let his feelings come out of our eyes because something in the universe picks at the edge of the wound. Even the sky wanted to sigh in release after that young man’s interview. it was like watching someone try to lasso the ocean with a rubber band. A mean impossibility and who told you that you should do that anyway. for all of the hurting hearts, i pray you release into the singing song of salt. May that which is moving through you ride the liquid assist of your own loving tears. . Speaking of tears, I’ve been having a challenge of a time finding the newest shapes inside of me. I reach into my own heart, with my own fingers, and I cannot always find a thing that is familiar. Sometimes people go on long hikes, like 300 mile hikes, along the pacific rim, or the AT, to go looking around inside of themselves. I go looking around inside of myself with slowness and art supplies.