image recall

As I study and buckle down seriously in my reading endeavors, I am thrust into images and places where my visualist is constantly taking notes. I have met new characters in pen and ink, acrylic and polymer as I pass over the endless words of inspiration. There is indeed no place like home because for me home is my library, my studio and my writer's desk. Home is my dream place and my cradle. My mind wanders home. My hands wish to create that which congeals in my minds eye. These things I had felt were separate entities are indeed cast from the same well of inspiration. They are connected functions that depend on eachother. I find this limitless space where creation is possible and although I sometimes stand on the porch wondering how to get in, I then have access through an open window. The seasons and natural cycle and wheel of time affect the creative process as well. These readings come to me as buds of a tree, inspired by the season from which they burst. I deliberate over the choice of those to take, to ingest and to use for inspired creation. The world within flourishes as it mirrors the world without.