She Who Brings the Fire
A very brief history of the beginning of all things:
First, there was the big empty. Then, into that void, the flame leapt into being. Next came water, air, breath. But it was fire that started it all, that pricked pinholes into that infinite black velvet curtain. That brought light and warmth, and, eventually life and the means to sustain life. Being fickle, it also periodically erases what it has helped create.
This piece is the first half of a planned diptych.
Diptych. Go on, say it. You know you want to. It's just one of those words that are fun to roll around in your mouth (triptych is okay too).
But I digress. "She" will be the left-hand side of a fire-themed diptych with a working title of "The Happy Couple". I'd like to rush right into the second one, but with all the other things I need to do, that might not be possible.
Fire is alot of fun to play with, metaphorically speaking. We love it and hate it, fear it and are fascinated by it in equal measure. It can serve as a symbol for nearly anything: passion, hate, reincarnation, destruction, knowledge, madness, civilization, and on and on. When Prometheus brought fire to humanity, he brought civilization. When the devil brings it, it's time to find a new zip code.
In completely unrelated news, my printer recently passed on. There was no fire. It choked to death. On a piece of paper. Seriously. This big, clunky metal and plastic box, a pinnacle of modern technology, got it's ass kicked by a flimsy piece of paper. I mean, it's not like I tried to print on a brick. Ah well. At least it's still under warranty. Guess paper really does beat rock.