Time, time, time; it whips me in a disorienting spiral. I feel like I am caught in the bowels of a tornado. It is what it is, and knowing time is limited incites me to go faster. No matter, I am unable to go more quickly than the pace required by my acting, doing, and acquiring knowledge. There is an inherent speed limit. Thus I muddle forward. I am learning how to behave. I have no choice but to accept proper behavior, because otherwise I spin my wheels and go nowhere. I want to go somewhere; I seek to know more, to understand myself better. My recent spate of drawings is practice in proper behavior. A few weeks ago I thought I was about to return to painting, but I was wrong. I needed more practice in proper behavior. I am trying to clarify the most efficient manner to manufacture a work of art, from start to finish, with me in the work, acting as the work itself in its organic development. This search is instigated by my need to be here now, and not squander my precious and limited time. I am on the verge of understanding this. I am on the verge of acquiring the ability to remain in the groove of required consciousness throughout the creation of the piece of art. Yesterday's drawings are illustrations of proper behavior.
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