It is fleeting, this feeling that I know what I am doing. Safety is not an option. Discomfort is all there is. I hope this is temporary nervousness. Can I blame it on Covid-19 and our dystopian politics? I think not. This is me. This is my struggle to express fully and adequately. Discomfort instigates the next step. Yesterday's second drawing feels better than the first. The first came stiffly; as if I knew the investigation I wanted to make. The second flew, created like watching a mystery unravel. It came mindfully, me watching carefully, yet the task spilled out with robust tenacity of purpose, full of courage, accompanied by audacity. I believe the higher quality of the second drawing is obvious.
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