Hello Mav',

I expect you have already heard about the big, blue diamond in the shape of Africa, that was discovered out of Cullinan earlier this year. You and your ties to Pretoria, some which I'd prefer to pretend do not exist are so tight that I am certain you must have known as soon as the soil itself began to whisper potential of a market usurper. Diamonds have had their fare share of inverted fortune ever since the world stopped some years ago. The same inversion that thrust us back towards each other in a foggy tug-of-war we might never fully fathom though we somewhat understand. The loud trumpet of change reminding us of our mortality and true tenderness of our flesh both in yearning and in injury - of mind, ego and skin. 

The big blue diamond of Cullinan - a sign of miraculous recovery or a stark warning that even miracles cannot turn tides this time? What's in is in, what is out is out. Where persuasion could once edge us all towards balance, won territories remain swaddled in press that sings the praises of synthetics in the name of justice.  We are told "this is what you want! Beauty without its authentic process of becoming - it hurts nobody" but you and I know all about how beauty can be twisted into agenda don't we? Even the purest connection is quickly littered with unsolicited perspectives that are compelled to pin authenticity into the floor. The pain of becoming as intended is then viewed as unnecessary drama though it rises not from the beautiful thing itself but from those that surround it, who on a better day could have chosen a different approach and leaned into stewardship of that beauty - into protection and fruitful partnership. The endurance required for authentic beauty to prosper is not and has never been injustice but in hands that are exploitive, even beauty can be bent into a tool for suffering. Where exploitation is tolerated, even magnificence becomes a burden. I think we will find, as we continue to be granted the grace of time, that the only true solution to injustice is change - not external change, Mav', the kind that requires introspection applied on a micro scale all the way through to superstructures. 

With all we know, all we have seen, the above is a far cry and so our cyclic games here remain and, it seems, will for some time. I suppose we still have each other? No? We can watch what would've once raised hopes be ignored behind the skilled hands of narrative and witness the shift as exploitation takes a different approach to making beauty its scepter for dominion, once again. You in the midst of it - leading the way from the floor, and I watching from my skyrise, quietly making my way through the flurry of the motion of whispers of paperwork, deals and exchanges. Above the noise, draped in charmeuse silk with a morning mimosa for company while you keep a coffee as yours. Of course, we won't say too much about it at dinner after a long day of feeling it and each of us will sip and snack through the hum of the ever lingering possibility of what may be coming next  as the market that made a stone king gets rearranged.