Thyra Weiss

Take a step outside of yourself and tap into the shadow realm, let the dark surround you. They who linger in there mean no harm.
The shadow arises in the meeting between light and darkness. In it, you can seek protection, but
also get lost and forgotten. The shadow is a figure that will never be held. Under your feet, it hides.
You watch it as the shape shifts. Your shadow melts into someone else’s.
Light a candle. The spark of life is bright.
The flame dances, shadows are cast, imitating our movements. The shadow carries the memory of the past, slightly distorted. They whisper to you and want to tell of all that has been, everything the shadow has experienced, everything that everyone has ever lived through.
They are dancing, hand in hand, around the flame of life.
Pause.
Before life, darkness; after, likewise. What stays hidden in the dark? Space and the deep sea. Death? We can only imagine. Maybe we do not want to know, maybe the answer will not be satisfying.
Maybe we need a bit of imagination for it all to make sense.