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08 September 2021

8 Sept 2019

 I tell myself that I can not create visual art, to share with all you, with the meager tools I know how to use. This is me trying to justify my procrastination and my fear. With enough impetus, then yes, I can create art of sorts....

But I do not want to be boxed in to whatever medium. Yet, I'm itching to say so much or just express... or just be some critic in the shadows, stamping my seal of approval...
most of all, I want to feel safe about my expressions. i do not want to be locked up in an insane asylum, if I happen to wander down the "what if..?" trail. I do not want to be shamed and bullied for championing causes that fall outside of the perceived mainstream society.... i do not weather critics well.
At the same time, I'm quite happy to entertain your stories and expressions... to a point. when they become harmful or do not seem to have much applicability, i begin to lose interest quickly
Yet, the death of me... the thing that leaves me empty... is to speak in a cone of silence, where the words appear to fall upon deaf ears and where no conversation develops, good or bad. that feeling of "I just shared **Stuff**, and..." <crickets>

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