Hope is the thing with feathers that perches in the soul—and sings the tunes without the words—and never stops at all—Emily Dickinson
Over the years I have become utterly hooked on that moment when the possible begins to dance its way into the probable.
The clue lies in the eyes
When the eyes light up—something exciting is birthing. I see it often playing with my three year old niece or teaching art classes to elementary school children for they are ever ready to be delighted, intrigued, filled up with hope. I saw it in my work with the Mapusha weavers in Rooiboklaagte. And I know the feeling within myself.
It is as though suddenly, everything within is alight.