Lost Within The Creases

When I was younger, I read and re-read Madeleine L’Engle’s ‘A Wrinkle In Time’ religiously. It was spiritual mysticism at it’s finest filled with myth and fairy tales; a universe I could escape to when I needed a grounding reminder of the duality between good and evil.

Because of this book, I came to personify Goodness with music and love, light and sound. Darkness became the epitome of Evil – an unknown “Dark Thing” with the capacity to swallow beings, existences, planets, universes. Perhaps this is why I am, to this day, still terrified of the Dark.

The following excerpt is from one of my favorite scenes, when Meg experiences Aunt Beast’s singing:

“It seemed to travel with her,

to sweep her aloft in the power of song,

so that she was moving in glory among the stars,

and for a moment, she, too,

felt that the words Darkness and Light had no meaning,

and only this melody was real.”

My last night in D.C. breathed new life into these timeless words. On the rooftop of The Love Shack, surrounded by people I adore beyond expression, I was swept into a twilight cyclone of moonlight and howling, of playfulness and honesty, of humbleness and silver-linings. This melody sang until morning, until we finally succumb to the dreams that knocked on our eyelids.

My dear friend, Paris Achenbach, wrote the following poem about an evening among friends, our Wrinkle In Time, on the back of an envelope she found on her bedside table. “Lost Within The Creases” epitomizes the glory we found under the stars and fairy lights, perfectly.

“Lost Within The Creases”  By Paris Achenbach

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Three Pencils In A Case.
Three Pencils In A Case.
Old Love And New Love of Three Friends Combined.
Old Love And New Love of Three Friends Combined.
It's The Handwriting That's Impressive.
It’s The Handwriting That’s Impressive.
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