Suppose we did our work
like the snow, quietly, quietly,
leaving nothing out.”
Still not finding enough contemplative time to devote to art-making, a year on after the great transition (house move).
I have a long blog in progress, into whose story is woven this drawing.
I won’t leave anything out.
Don’t you leave anything out.
Because of the delusion of time.
Which is a tool of the enslaver of creativity.