Intricate. It’s the word I think when I see anything around me. Complicated, when I think for a minute more. Connected. Always connected, everything. My life. Something I can’t see. Sometimes I can’t realize.

Intricate plans with complicated connections. It’s what I see. What I feel. What will never leave me. Remember. Memories. So many and so complicated. Always there lurking when you look.

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So many won’t look, can’t. Aren’t capable. They sit in towers, surrounded in white. Soft, never knowing. Not quite understanding what they drop upon us from their towers is more than a line of words or a plain order. It has to be, for us who live at the feet of towers.

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He climbs and climbs. The white is endless. The escape of the tower is necessary and imminent. But forever he will climb. It is the work of some, the goal of some, to climb. It does not matter whether you reach the end, or if you even want to. It only matters that you climb, that you try, that you reach for the imminent yet elusive escape.

…

This piece was originally written for the Seattle Acquarium’s Creativity Inspiring Conservation creative writing course, and was displayed during their 2013 student art reception.

The statement written for the program:

This was written as a response to a picture of a frog climbing in a white bucket, and to me it represents a struggle to change you environment, and a kind of out place sense in your world.