Snow is falling outside my window, and I am reminiscing about the time when I was a sister in a palace created for a prince. I miss the touch, the long gazes, the bravery each student brought, and the reminder to flirt with life. My body longs for another back to lean on, an extra pair of feet, and a braid that extends and becomes another person’s hair.

For we are mighty not only when we remember the past that roars through marble and stone walls, or when we manifest a future that is more sustainable for all, but also when we simply breathe together — feeling another ribcage expand beneath my hands, watching eyes fill with tears from lungs that haven’t felt air tickle it’s body for a while.

We, students, visitings, and staff, created a space for pause, breath, reflection, and sensing — a place where repairing a broken lamp and painting it with gold becomes a healing reminder that fragility should not be hidden, but shown.

Now I will seal this manifestation with the gold of my memory, not to end it, but to let it grow roots that somewhere at some point will sprout

-VIV