The Sacred Space

My aunt got me a candle for Christmas. It was one of those candles that burn a small votive at the bottom which heats a bar of scented wax at the top. I had it in my apartment for a while before I got around to using it. I loved the way it lit the room so I decided to turn off all the lights and really let it glow.

It reminded me of some ancient Mayan artifact. In the flickering light the candle seemed to accumulate age the same way a storm gathers clouds. 

Simple cut out shapes echo large carved forms still lost in some foreign jungle. The meaning almost lost but the beauty never diminished. 

The candle's curved arch become a warm embrace in this sacred space. One single flame shelters us from the dark.