blessed winds billow and caress those gathered here, where memory is long as the shifting shadows, and the nights contain remorse is equal does as celebration.
it makes it easier to be known, to have been seen, to have been marked. though fleeting like a sinking sun, the recognition of a time where one was vital and present, this is the story of the survived.
these are the laments of the left-behind. to have known such great love in your time, and to have that love extend it's long gloved hand into your memory and heart.
your senses become more acute, your body swells like a turbulent ocean, and you know then you are absolutely mortal.
make a doodle of a stranger, and when finished, approach and present the drawing as a gift and use as little words as possible to convey your gratitude for their time and participation.