044. Ladders

Inspired again by Dorothee Lang, following her series on cropping and editing photographs. When it comes to experimenting with pictures, I am not organised/methodical/whatever-it-is enough to track the process of editing images that I do in photoshop. I call it playing, I compulsively play around with the different tools (for a while I lost my normal brushes and only had some really weird ones to play with that did not give me any sort of desired effect; but now I found them again I am experimenting again...

He showed me ladders to the sky, propped up resting against the blue-whiteness. It was blind faith that led me to put my hand on the smooth wood, not the rungs, the sides. Do the sides of ladders have a name? I suppose, six steps up, that it doesn't really matter. I am already farther away from the ground than I am comfortable with, but I am not terrified today. Slide my hand again, grasping the juncture, letting my fingers curl around the upright. He watches me. I am not sure where he is, sometimes he seems ahead, beckoning me on, sometimes a safety net behind. I think he must be climbing a parallel ladder. The rungs fade into a solid air, not visible, but still I keep climbing. He is not visible but still, still I keep on. More like I stick my toes into the sky and it hangs on to them for me, grasps my wrists. Is this what faith in myself is like?