Whenever I seem confused, lost or simply stranger than normal, I know I am growing. In these times there is no way to explain the state of things. When one (thing) is becoming another. It has been a while so I have had a tough time remembering the beauty in it.
I was just looking this morning. I had created a new base, or playground, as I often refer to them. And, well, I became more aware of recurring images and how they are not really like that after the seed is sown. They are suddenly new, yet, as if they were always there. The part of the process that can never really be shared is ... well, like that.
I look here at these two. The one on the left from 2020, I was here. I called it Holding On to Nothing and then, renamed Everything is Connected. The one on the right , new, unnamed. They are so much the same, the floating, the connection. One still so simple, one more complex. I cannot always explain why I see things the way I do. In between. It may not be important except to one who is deeply interested in form(ing).
As I move toward paper once again, well, I am looking again. At the recurring. Which is simply, Again. And the undoing that contains.
These are not good photos, my mind was elsewhere.