Betwixt
FORM Vol. XXV is available now. See Betwixt and more in ISSUU
The sunrise welcomes the day and the sunset bids it farewell. The daylight praises warmth, recreation, and revival while moonlight whispers rest. But there is a sliver of time between the sleepy sun’s kaleidoscope of hues and the cloak of darkness, rebuked and overlooked: blue hour.
Blue hour is a period of waiting, a season of “the almost but not quite,” the lacuna that disjoins the present and future. Blue hour fills voids and constructs a liminal space from the vacuum.
Living in liminality is the uneasiness of unbelonging. There’s no closure, and no sense of freedom from.
Liminality is waking up from a dream, being caught in between the reverie of your mind and the grounding of reality. The dream which hangs below your conscience and erases assurance. The tugging in the back of your mind that questions not only where you are, but where you belong.
While blue hour reflects the unease of unbelonging, there is a comfort in knowing where you are. In holding on to the light of the day and knowing there is resolution at night.
The sky reaches the break of its transformation, from the glaring golden rays of the sun to shining lunar glow. The sky is at peace with itself, in its knowing. No longer does the sun penetrate skin and restrict breath. Not yet, though, has the mischief of night life taken over.
In this moment, the two forces are equal with each other. The dimly lit sky — even on days with scorching heat, rapid winds, chaotic thunderstorms, and gloomy rains — can, in this moment, find harmony with the night.
Not quite melancholy, but also not exactly radiant. It is subtly, yet surely hopeful.
