Not wandering even, going… doing… taking action based on a thousand before this one. All resonating in harmony, each a little ‘me-seek’, ready to be done with its job. Waiting for me to find my feet and stay up. A sanctuary that’s forgotten itself in the scenery.
Everything is shiny, and sweaty by way of desperation instead of pleasure, as it should be. A pleasure to live, to give freely of what comes so free to me. Never-ending inspiration. Always fresh for the taking. In such a space, a field to exist, one can’t help but grow wild and spring, into existence with wings. As beautiful and powerful as each is capable of producing, blessings slung into the air around me. No need to speak.
Like anything, beauty comes through windows of pain reined into creative energy, a deeper love for shared humanities. Traits we all can bleed, when energy is swayed from the middle way, and thrust into a pendulum swing.
Tearing new holes in reality. Showing me life happens to those asking. Simple rules blossoming within and above eyes reach before sprouting and blooming into all things cultivated in the lines between. Scratching messages into the pavement, telling it to the trees. Weaving living tapestries.
Detailed creations, a dance between wood pulp and ink. To burn them into nothing. Let the smoke rise, the battle cry of release. Condensation in reverse, up in smoke the rabble goes. Until the flow in me again runs free. Taking me on a beautiful journey. Floating and soaring, spinning and weaving. A gift for all who seek inside for things to be seen with clarity now within arms reach, an architect, building. A divine house of fractal mirrors, a seer in a friendly game of hide-and-seek