What if celestial amnesia has its time and place?

What if we’re in the thick of it?

shrouded in mist

wonder and awe. my terrain.

The world wants everyone clean, easy to read, easy to put into boxes. It’s no wonder I had no choice but to choose differently.

in wonder is the only way for me to be

we are more than artists in wonder

On the surface

everything’s a bit mundane

but there’s much more happening

within

Masks go up.

Masks go down.

No need for masks at all.

Where masks fall short at one’s feet.

A blessed place to be, interiorly.

So heavy are masks keeping wonder and holism at bay.

The masks so many need.

My Sweet Release.

We are not meant for everybody. For me, too sensitive, that in itself is suffocating.