co-create

As it seems the shapes will change in front of my open eyes and move to something recognizable. Then the shapes will change and the hands will move. The image becomes obvious, the path clear. I have found a new direction a million times over and it never wants to stop. I enjoy these journeys. A million journeys a month into oblivion, pulling out by the hair in a rather neanderthal scene an image from my psyche. Then the delicate dance of creation begins. Popping the pages with razor sharp edges. Crystallizing the air. This is my little creation dance. My fire dance within that abyss. Tools work, hands move and suddenly a face emerges. Hello to you friend! Where have you been? Well these things would tell me their story had they the time, but mostly they choose to move within their own realm leaving me in mystery for some time before the break in the dam begins again. Movement. I detect movement just up ahead. Running like blood, the pen acting as a hatchet carving out the space, the ink gushes. Hold it up and move again. It won't be happy until it's unleashed on the page.