Spiral Spells

Chemotherapy is fertile terrain for mood spirals. And, spirals have an irresistible seductive savor. I need to believe that there is a symmetry, an equation of aesthetics, that shapes or sculpts what sometimes appear to be random logarithms of irritation, exhaustion, introspection, anxiety, and apprehension. Contemplating this intersection of geometry and emotion provides a refuge from the arbitrariness.
The past six days have been sprinkled with spiraling sequences. Spiraling upwards or downwards, these motions of particular mind-sets have choreographed many enchanting moments. For instance, I will think twice before assessing my ability to stack a dishwasher as anything other than inadequate. Or, I will never underestimate the effects of Gabriela's contact lens, which decided to run away one day while she played in the park, for such a mishap had the ability to summon a spectral Shakespearean sermon. Plotting such moments, in a grid lined with hindsight, sketches many a smile. I smile, even when the verbalized frustration spirals around me. One more infusion awaits. I smile knowing that the chemotherapy spell will soon be broken.

In the meantime, I capture other species of spiral...ones that frame empty spaces...bursting with absence...shrouded in silence. Here is one I found today while looking up, in a federal government building, of all places.