I can feel myself changing, calming to match the deep-wave-sines of the sea. Driving out to worship, hand on the wheel - BRINK - written there to remind me to pass on some information about a community youth art project.
Chatting with a friend in cyberspace about her recent fall - and painting. Falling and painting, we decide, go together. But not today, don't fall today. Some things stick like iron filings on a magnet, come from nowhere and you can't shake them off.
One by one the impatient drivers peel off behind me, going home. Getting towards dusk.
Breaking on the outer reef, already big - and coming up to 7 metres tomorrow. Westerly swell and wind.
I come to worship, to remind myself that I am not what I seem, to be terrorised, awe-struck, daring God to strike me for being in alien territory - for having the audacity to think I can understand anything at all.
