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Thursday, July 28, 2016

Shimalimma dingdong.

In my inner world, I have been busy.  I think, in the last few years, all my intuition and all of my energy has been spent on figuring out, trying to prevent, anticipating and muddling through. now that i am doing so much less of that, my intuition and energy are more free to play... and i realize the depth and complication of my love for mixing it up. metaphor, analogy, connections, these are my linguistical gymnastics, and this play of my mind is something i can really get carried away with...
other things i love?

i love paper cutouts, those beautiful shadow landscapes of the small. a stark cameo, a scene of edges. I don't need to acquire them, even, but I have a deep appreciation for their existence.

i'm a fan of screen door: the slams and swings, and the feels, between screen and wood, another landscape of texture, i suppose.

kid voices at play in the yard. indistinct yells and game rules being decided. nothing better.

kitchen table empty. never ever happens, but i do love it, in imagination... love seeing the grain of the wood, the false promise that things have found their places to be.

the deepest teal, the almost blue.

the sobbing sadness which won't let me burn love letters, and the unbelievably painful 'yet' that waits.

ah. there is, of course, so much more. but these are bits ... tids...

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