Saturday, February 25, 2012
Light and Dark
"Lying pinned under the weight of the bedcover in the morning, listening to the chooks walking up and gran clanging Agatha's door, she could loose herself in the pattern. Light, dark. Light, dark. Somehow it was a comfort."
"Then she tiptoed into the Sewing Room to find the rag-bag, and took it back to her own room. She closed the door, and listened again to make sure no one was near before she got them out and spread them over the floor. She had not really planned to, but found herself cutting them into triangles, and arranging them next to each other on the floor. Light, dark. Light, dark.
It was interesting, the way a piece that looked lovely on its own could stop looking lovely when you put it alongside another piece.
But also, a dull piece could become a jewel next to a certain other pieces.
And it was a kind of magic, the way no piece was either a light or dark by itself. Any of them could be a light or a dark, depending on what it was next to.
She had to remind herself to go on breathing, the pleasure of it was so private."
The Idea of Perfection by Kate Grenville