There are no easels in heaven. The Wizard Divine of the Universe likes to paint in 3D on horizontal canvases called “snow-covered lakes.” This is why Mini-snowda has so many of them (40,000 if you include lakes under 10 acres). And when you think about it from the perspective of the firmament, “horizontal” is just a local term on an infinitesimal blue dot called Earth where “up” and “down” likewise are colloquialisms, so who needs an easel?

Anyway, the snow-covered canvas behind Sully Acres is aswirl with masterpieces these days...and nights. Curtains of snow march shore to shore in standing waves. Translucent clouds cast rainbow-hued dice upon the ice as sunlight passes through them as if they were stained glass. And in the stillness after midnight a full moon may pour a silver path like spilled paint along the phantom blue snow straight to my window.

I can exit my house on skinny skis and storm ski out on the lake to a point nearly lost to visible surroundings. There, with vague houses looming like mastodons in falling snow on all sides, I am strangely and thrillingly isolated. Magical moments melt away like the snowflakes on my face and the beat of my heart jars like thunder. As the storm intensifies even the mastodons vanish into the scrim. Imagine! Completely safe a half mile from any shore, and yet I can revel in the sense that I don't know where I am or where I am going. All is new and unknown. Just like life.

So, paint on, Wizard Divine! Your brushstrokes move faster than my shadow when you hurl a shaft of light to illuminate my path. So many brushstrokes all at once! Are you in your multi-armed Hindu incarnation when you paint? Wish I could see your face. Oh. That's right. I can. You are the Universe.

13 photos at the end of this Sullygram try to share some of the ethereal magic I'm enjoying...

Intended to deliver on my promise of another Q&A (long-procrastinated) last month for the Valentine's Sullygram. Most of your feedback pursues relationship questions that developed out of characterization themes I included here years ago. I sincerely appreciate that, but I'll never understand just how that became the most popular thing I write. Then again, what's more important to us than our strongest emotions? So, here's a partial follow-through, scaled back to one question:

Q&A: this one came at me verbally the other day -- "Do you believe in love at first sight?" And when I was done being glib -- "Saves a lot of time" -- I decided to get serious. What is that mysterious imprint carved into the bedrock of our hearts that flickers like heat lightning whenever the sweep of our senses finds a certain configuration of a human being? It might come in the sudden intensity of a glance or the honeyed sweetness of a voice or the haunting hint hidden in a subliminal scent. The reflex is as instantaneous as it is irrepressible. True, it may come from a sexually quiet zone, something analytically objective that grows with wisdom. But more often it's emotionally subjective like the hormonal instincts of kittens at play. Either way, we rank order our world for threats, bonds and sex. Enemies, allies and mates.

Love at first sight is a blip on the radar. That prolonged bright-eyed glance that melds with the nuances of a blush, or maybe steadies unnaturally, or is followed by a slight distending of nostrils as if causing a sudden intake of breath, is just enough to stir our pulse and ignite the red glow of something we can't quite identify. Still ambiguous, it could be driven by vanity, or a need for self-esteem, or just heat trapped in underwear. But if communication and eventually a connection are made beyond that first sexual interest, here come the litmus tests where most "love at first sight" founders.

Was the glint in their eyes a true window through which you read a common set of values and simpatico? Probably not. Still, hope and desperation are first cousins, and we may compromise the litmus tests. Rarely -- maybe once-in-a-lifetime if you haven't sealed the deal with a lesser choice -- you discover THE ONE wherein all litmus tests are aced. AKA, the love of your life.

Enter the negotiations. These may never resolve or they may simply never end, depending on how much self-love each party is invested in vs an altruistic love for the crush candidate. But if there are no double standards, tempered perfection (excuse the oxymoron) is mere heartbeats away. Soulmate is a possibility. It's a delicate stage. All in or all out. No poison curare on Cupid's arrows. Here even the most ingenious end runs may run out the clock, because permanent standards are hardening like cement. Honesty and faithfulness look terrible when blasted with cannon shot. The hourglass reels and sometimes tips over to lie like a sundial in a pit. Suspended animation -- an eternity not spent -- can flash freeze forever. Which is preferable to failure, if you've already glimpsed Shangri-la.

All these possibilities descend from “love at first sight.” So, yes, I believe in that. That much at least is portable in dreams. The month of March, as it happens, is inaugural for me in that sense, so may your March be as dreamy as mine!

   

Thomas "Sully" Sullivan