Simple complication

Intertwined

It is an ironic struggle of man: to make life easy to understand but sophicated enough to enjoy. The brain feeds on novelty, while the heart sings only to simplictic ideals.

Perhaps this is why societies are formed from families: keep the fireworks close but the fire closer.

In the jungle of complicated human networks, our emotional capacity can only manage a small feature of the greenery. The patch of dirt that we never want changed. Yet we still secretly long for surprises, if only to be frustrated by it.

Then from our tiny patches in the jungle, we reach out to touch our neighbors with our roots holding our hands. If we are lucky, we'll find other plants to hold our hands.

The tiny connections often sleep in a larger nest of uncertain motives. The little movements cannot possibly fathom the larger influences which carry it along. Only much later can these motives be understood.

As time washes away the burdensome details, our mind slowly painting back the emotional content of what transpired. Gradually, we wrap ourselves in untruths that warm our starving souls. Stomachs are easy to fill but hearts growl forever. Armed with our imagination and brushes made from the most painful memories, we cover the world in shades of anger and joy, dipping into the palette of lies that were taught. Only the bravest ones mix their own colors.

We are all artists in a way. Painting the saddest, most complex, intricate and breathtaking mural known to this blue world.