Open space is unlimited. Guilty. Who will be paying time, paying penitence? Is penitence what any of us need? i just need a few simple things to trust. What will stop time slipping through my fingers?

All minds meet in the center void where they separately awaken w/ core energy filling the room, re-dreaming someone else’s dreams left behind. Collective thought lay somewhere near. It is unique to them. The small i + the big I. Where do i to find the fitting pieces?

Parts have been measured out in mugs of paint + cans of coffee + in the breaking of a porcelain toothpick holder in the shape of an iron, in the bondage of short days wishing for spring while savoring winters work.  Measured by helping stray animal + orphaned colors no one else would give a second look to. Dying the fabric of results + covering the wounds that the product exposes even as the processes’ pain is hidden from my view. Finding others to hold up even as i kick aside my own work + lose myself for moments at a time only to round the corner to find that i never left my own private studio. Creativity has never been a convenient thing. It does not enable super human strength, assuage the need for sleep or automatically come with a paycheck.  It dwells in the deepest part of the pile w/ its head + hands exposed, ever waving for attention w/ a slow burn that is never exhausted nor satisfied.

Is someone haranguing salvation really what we need?

How do you figure?

The fugitive kind, the ones that got away. A fish story? Everyone’s got one. Surrender is a powerful tool. Surrender physical, eventually the mind will follow.

i do go on.