Liminal space can be marvelously insightful, sometimes, and sometimes inexplicably vague. I’m often in-between. Lately, the in-between space is a happy one. Newlywed. Nearly finished with the degree. Not yet sure about the physicality of the physical that houses my headspace. New owner of a Nook electronic book reader to replace the pages and pages and pages and now I am falling into pixels everywhere.

Some say that physical and mental discipline work hand in hand. What’s in the liminal space between those two and can I live there, instead?  Dream states are only really found in dreams and in madness; the former is temporary and the latter is not certainly tempting. I’ve started a new program to reshape body, to try and storm up my mind. My headspace is mid-marathon (mid-dissertation), but my body is at the starting line of it’s current journey. The space in between is amorphous, foggy. Life is seldom tidy.

My heart is lit with red neon light. Life is bright with bluebonnets and cream in coffee, held hands and typed characters, energy in the morning light and soft pillows beneath the moon’s bright kind. Life is full of change.

Perhaps, every moment is liminal. Is a pixel anything like an inky line?

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