So much goes forth without edit. So much is all just the rough and beginning draft. So much is the resistance to the world of form and the changes that come with a living body. The changes that come with learning to adapt to stress. How to ground it all in, how to tell what is balanced enough, how to walk the middle ground. I always know that I am a mirror yet why do I feel a few steps behind, in moments it is ahead, yet here and now is all that there is. So so so why? Why do the clouds cover up a clear blue sky? Why does this weeping willow cry? The circle is if the ego mind while the spiral is of the heart. I am reminded and I breathe and this is a faithful place to start. Am I like the Christian folk in their cathedrals and their patriarchal marriages? Within the context of a judgmental mind and a heart that feels as though it’s all caving in. There’s no wrong way to go, I am reminded, and now the keys have switched and I write form a different composition, horizontal this time, taking in a wider picture. The details and the precision are definitely a part of it yet the fulls cope is what we’re here witnessing. And I pulled the tow