We found a circle during a walk, formed with rocks. Ancient. There's a history behind it, and we imagined it also to be sacred, a place of gathering. Maybe a place souls come to congregate.
Circles feel organic but also geometric, the converging point of art and logic. Life as a circle. Daily cycles. Monthly cycles. All coming back to where it started.
Or is it more of a spiral?
The drawing of the circle means each point is now different than before, with more pigmentation, more ink, more lead, more something on it, something that wasn't there. Each point is not the same, even if it looks to occupy the same space as before.
We stand in a circle to show solidarity. Community. We have a circle of friends. We talk about our inner circle.
My thoughts circle around a point I can't quite grasp.