Aidan San Francisco — 1985 Stained Glass Soul

Aidan dreams he is floating inside the chapel where he’d been baptized. He is drifting between the stained-glass windows, dancing over the flesh of a star-white baby, insubstantial as a light ray. No more solid than loss or memory, he drifts between the colors surveying his younger self like an undiscovered country.

The chapel is dark yet awash with color. Leaded lines separate the pigments. Aidan does not know, has no reason to know, that the world is not always divided. He has never seen the moon turning the dark sea silver, or blue sky and yellow sun bringing forth green leaves. He watches, an outsider even in his dreams, observing how the color and light playing over the pale baby imbue it with life. Like faith made visible, the fragments of color and belief do not combine.