When my wife and I were like that, her psychologist mom said derisively that we were still in the bubble stage. But this bubble does not have to pop. It can expand and include more and more of the world, and of our being.
Who knows? Perhaps heaven itself will be a bubble, a bubble of joy so tenuous and thin, but full of the refracting colors of infinitude.
In any case, as a photographer, and a Christian, let me whisper in your ear: “Blessed are the bubble dwellers, for their infinite existence has already begun.”
From an exhibit at the Guggenheim of art displayed at a Rosicrucian Salon in Paris in the 1890’s.
There was a persistent complementary theme of the Femme Fatale, whom we all know, and the Femme Fragile, the innocent woman, fragile and sensitive, living in harmonious accord with nature, and capable of redeeming men, just as her counterpart can destroy men.