When I sit on my balcony and watch the clouds pass trough the sky – I live on the 8th floor – I truly feel as if those giant cumuli were some kind of Titans: powerful and huge yet shapeshifting with ease within the infinite space of the sky, that seems so close to the top of my head and yet is immense and infinite. Right now, after the rain, an enormous grayish cumulus is set right in front of the soon setting sun, allowing the sun’s rays to spread from its top and bottom, much like beautiful wings of an everlasting god that holds not only light but the promise of an inextinguishable golden source.
Some of the giant clouds are ripped apart by small breaches that let the wandering eye discover other shades of those divinities: blue, and white, and violet, and pink.
I feel as if it were a whole universe there, on top of us, humans, who are accustomed to live gazes down, and it makes me understand that surely the Sky, and the Clouds, and the Sun, and the Moon, and all of the Stars are the true flesh of which the greatest Myths are made of.
I love living on the 8th floor. I’m close to the gods.