Forward is my comfort level. However, motion is not presently an option. Grief has never been so prominent in my life as it is now. It is stunning. And numbing. Inspiration is void.
There's too much going on to move. Family constellations are being illuminated. Legacies are solidified. Mortality is questioned.
Seemingly lacking in presence, I am more present then ever. Honouring the healing that must happen, I accept this is where I need to be. So, I sit.
Between.
Between.
Between being nurtured and nurturing, learning and teaching, anger and love. Between viels of understanding. Between the subject and the artist.
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