I want to make bold brush strokes up against the meandering vulnerable line of charcoal.
I want to make scribble marks from my 3 year old self.
I long to listen and welcome fear only to squash it by pushing forward.
I want to show up every day.
I long to work and muddle and mess it up...only to bear witness to miracles. To discovery.
Embracing fear...kissing it on the cheek goodbye.
There is aliveness in moving paint.
There is awakening and spirit energy.
Dancing together with color.
It brings light where there was only darkness.
Rainbow reflections in water.
A simple morning
Fleeting but sweet