July 18, 1999: The evolution of seed to flower
I carry several moods—the weight of sudden depression, two tablespoons of anger, a need to write and a doubting self that can’t believe it’s me who continues to paint in ways I never thought possible. My eyes are swollen with tears, for no one ever taught me how to properly pray. Then one day, I walked into the collection of trees that greet me every morning—fell to my knees and didn’t say a word…I chose inside instead to just listen.

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