After sailing without a map for weeks, we were arrested by shallow water and sharp edges. Put simply: I didn't expect Lilly. The force of us both in the boat threatened to overturn it and the turbulance has seen us fall head on into faraway lands of lawyers and accountants, percentages and profit and loss. We hit our heads together on the way down and it hurt. Luckily we are both spring loaded.
The difficulty in sorting roles and souls was like a storm in Narnia, all drama, dark wardrobes and late nights. While I retain the role as founder and editor, Lilly has become undoubtedly the co-grounder of this BIG world. BIG is one vision harnessed from two hearts. We now have an agreement that is safe, bold and unconventional and supported by weight, difference, serendipity and the slipstream that sees this BIG world grow at lightening speed.
We both hold on, and we both let go.
With a rocking building in her blood, tiny boats carve new ways through older veins. A procession. A fleet. Anchors lodging in little toes and in the corners of her eyes. Land ho. Miniature armies scale slippery irises, hooking ropes and harnesses to see what she sees. To look with everything. To see with more. The end of childhood comes with the birth of the youngest child. And now she cries. The child. The girl child. And history gets up to feed her.