Perhaps growth and development is bent and strange and circular, like space-time warped within our intellectual, emotional cavity. Several times I have seen space-time, and time travel, described like a piece of paper that can be folded back upon itself. My mind seems to work this way too. I return, I warp, but always perceive myself as moving forward.
I began a new painting yesterday. This is "2016 No.17". It does not feel revolutionary, but happily summative. That which I know is realized. This is me sitting pretty. I think I am accepting the place I am right now. In getting to know myself I have realized this: My pleasure in knowing something won't last long. I will enjoy it while I can. I believe this painting will spill from me like water from an overfilled pitcher. I am releasing tension, the over-filled container that I am, by simply doing, nice and easy.
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