May 6, 2001: He wears the mask to hide the blood

I’m the observer—the viewer of all things that pass. I do judge! But, I’m learning not to. To be a watcher through the art of listening—reaction, my weakness…so is the tossing out of words. I’m the observer—invisible to no one, yet…I could easily disappear. Being the observer means being open—but not in the way of wound creation. I’m a people watcher, a lover of nature, birds, ants and the spring bloom held within the wind. I’ll speak with you, only to read about it a thousand days later.