Caught up in this fury of activity, just don't want to stop coloring paper. It makes me feel about five years old, messing with crayons, diligently staying inside the lines. I have always thought of myself as a good girl, even when I'm not. It's always a momentary aberration whenever I step outside the lines. Maybe I need to be there more often. Oh, this one is barely begun, and will change bunches before I pronounce it finito, but it just came up so majestically from the paper, rising almost of its own volition. That is magical when it happens, and precious. I cut these roses from a bush in the backyard jungle. Wow, they are really RED! Feeling the presence of the divine today. Savoring that, as it will shift soon. Shift happens, you know.
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