What Dreams May Become

It’s been a while now and whiling away was all worth it when a still life was born…

The aberrant. The fine & prime. The shady & blue. And the dauntless.

Human differences can be too many to count, but the counting does not even stop at the distinctions in blood or color. There is a continuous crack running through cultural traits that even a single race turns deceptive and inconstant.

One color, one smile, one generation, one country, but different people concocting their own stories, in their own time, as different as it can tell. Making each a far cry from the other and keeping the cultures unique or strange.

One color, one smile, one generation, one country, one place, but broken by language, culture and history… The forces of nature may have brought them together but it’s a story written long before the gods of the universes. It was destiny. What made the little antithetic hands hold each other will remain as elusive as a mystery.

These faces have been sketched where most of the battles that will be fought are in the places where they can neither go nor touch. But here they are fighting the same intangible battle hoping to slip through the cracks and learn the fight.

These various early life existences have been laid out on different roads relying on dreams for more vivid and obvious trails. What dreams may become will entirely depend on the first walks. This is the checkpoint, captured in a most candid way, but leaves the next leaps translucent with swarming threats and danger on the other side.

The aberrant. The fine & prime. The shady & blue. And the dauntless. Dreams are extracted from the divergence of a common race. What they can become will reflect on the checkpoint. That checkpoint is now.