I long for a community of my own. for collaborators. for a chance to make some art that really means something to me. for a feeling of going forward. of stepping in and stepping down. clinching with my fist. for someone to give me an idea a direction a commission. a mission. sitting idle drives me nuts. art supplies laying about the hard wood floor taunting me. so close so close don’t touch don’t touch. pen and paper not satisfying. wordless. wanting to be wreckless and hopeful. to reach out to spit to vomit to uncontrollably respond. maybe I’m just not inspired. not spontaneous. been a long time.
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