How many times I’ve found myself testing boundaries, learning what I could trust and what I could not. The desert and hills of my youth were the best teachers. I marvel now at the simple things which have manifested themselves into my being. Hours spent in creative concentration; navigating new experiences and explorations.

I learned early to trust my hands. I found that if I could get something into my hands, I could make things happen. They are naturally perceptive, discerning. Probably by no coincidence, I found boredom with manmade things, far more stimulated by those things that did not exist, until I forced them into existence. Through my hands, nature bent to my imagination at every turn, allowing me escape to create and dream without limit.

I found a confidence that most of the things of this world are malleable and it saved me. I applied the belief to every part of my life. I learned to be the sculptor, never yielding to the inclination that something might not be doable. I found that as most things bend, I can mold them and shape them until I am satisfied for a time at their construction. My appreciation for the limitless nature of change developed a confidence that when I grow tired of a shape, I can choose to pull it down and begin anew. I am unbound. I am alive with renewal at the moment I decide to change.

In this belief, I find my hands a constant friend and a willing conspirator; bending and shaping things the way I wish. It grows a certain respect for the life I create. When the time comes to tear things down in favor of change, I honor the force they’ve had on my journey, by reflecting on their lessons, cause and effect.

The cycle, so endless and profound, forces the change that inhales breath into life. It constantly reminds me; how full are our experiences, and how petty our complaints. Options and choice are the things that move me; so exciting and tactile. I’ve never shared in the fear commonly found with the changing shape of things. Life grows grey and dead in its absence.

The naturalness of change is far removed from man’s control and there is a sense of solace for me in that knowledge. It is a natural rhythm I know and trust intuitively. An instinct telling me when I‘m out of sync. I am like a tiny vessel on an open, deep blue sea that sometimes turns turbulent, but I let go the illusion of control and roll among the waves without fear. I have no use for illusion. I ride the waves and find the greatest trust in my hands.


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