From the core, an eruption of significant emotional magnitude penetrates the outer shell.
The outpouring is chaotic yet strangely structured, but always hard to predict.
The waves of internal detritus and debris are powerful and all consuming.
Those close enough to witness this explosion are never unaffected.
All ground beneath us shifts, cracks and dissolves the solidity that holds one upright.
The vibrations are felt for hours afterwards, slowly but surely their magnitude dissipates until, eventually, all is still.
This stillness, an uncomfortable calm, both quiet and loud in its silence.
Eventually a soft noise breaks into one’s consciousness, like a chink of light cutting through the rock that veils the valley floor, illuminating our path.
The reality of one’s very existence? Perhaps the way forward?
Jo Howe-Artist 
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