I have hardly picked up a paintbrush in the past year and a half.
I would like to step back into this particular branch of the creative
road, however. As I do, I realize that I have lost fluency. I have
lost a sense of how to go about the various processes. I have very
little hope of things turning out the way I imagine them and even
less hope of finding all the tools I vaguely remember having.
The journal page above is today's attempt to resurrect this
long-lost part of my life. It is also a meditation on how
change comes, and how sometimes, but not always,
it is a result of our own choices. I wonder if some
of the directions I've chosen were detours or doorways. Would
I have chosen differently if I had been listening along the way?