Inside the Inside

I spend hours inside the inside of line and color until I’ve lost all sense of the world. I come out with mixed feelings, having tasted freedom before landing back in this dream. Living through these shifting times falls somewhere between exhilarating and excruciating, and yet, there’s always that black hole in the center, calling, calling. “Come in here where nothing is as it was, or as it seems, and face yourself.” An open door, an invitation to unpack and unload, let go of the rails, kick down the scaffolding. What, of all of this, is worth keeping? I say, only the purest parts, the Soul of it all. But let’s not be fooled by the mirror. There’s something to be mined here, and it’s not likely to break through the din without our assistance.