Ethos

The road you choose to walk in this life is the one that leads into the next. Have you ever […]

There in the sepia toned photos stood relatives of some import. I quickly flip each photo to garner some faded hen-scratched insight as to who was standing there and why had my ancestors thought enough of these folk as to save their light reflections as such. How disappointing to find no or illegible writings, certainly I share their underlying genotypical code and obviously their phenotypical expressions, but just how much of their wisdom their essence their being do I reflect? I feel for them, unknown, in a bundle, in a box, in a closet.