Hi it’s me.
I know I go on and on about creativity, and about how it changes lives, and about how we have it in us and we need it and all of that.
My yearn is to feel that creativity alive when I know anger and I can shoulder that emotion anew, to become the feather in the concrete of my feeling.
It’s all so fragile.
These moments of reading and knowing truth then switching off the computer and going back to the real mirror which tells no lies.
Can this creativity change anything?
Does it befriend us and pull us toward our golden sun?
Can we fresh and new ourselves with it?
Is it worth the risk or do we know that the pull is waiting?
It is my aliveness.
It is my hunger to eat of the flesh of colour and fill myself with it’s light.
Am I being too abstract?
I just want it to change everything.
Clean out and set up.
This is me and it’s late.