Trapped in the iris, the soft colors of nature, the bending of simple light, shapes and angles which yawn below the mountain. Yes, trapped – like an ant in amber – the sights and scenery of life unfolding, ever-present in its glorious notion of beauty, naked in its most primitive form.

Indeed, we sell our souls for the gift, to stand within this prism of hope, an essence of white diminished into seven properties... and then there is black. Behind each wall is a simmering void, a place of darkness where colors cannot escape. We long for those photons, those vibrant particles of light which flicker and flair. We cherish the memory, those wonderful quantums captured in retina, the swift blink of an eye which traps all light.

To walk in grace is to witness the blossom – the magic of yellow, the destiny of red, the violet of golden sunsets. We are born in the green of spring, make love under heavenly blue, grow old in the rust of autumn. This is our blessing, our purpose, our course of action – to wake each day and feel the comforts of Mother Nature, to feel her heartbeat and sting.

There is no other way. Our time here is limited. Her message is simple, her melody is clear – treasure her kingdom or perish in darkness. The choice is yours...