thinking of my sister tonight as i type this first entry. wondering if she'll be alright. i am fully cognizant that what is happening now, the startling and devastating events that have occurred so recently are happening exactly as they aught. i am wondering if i really am running out of time like i feel i am. i really do hope i can splog :) going . it is good to write. good to make art. to see art. art is the movement of smoothing out the "oh so rough" edges. the rubbing up next to each other. creating the shapes separate but "fitting too", knowing they are connected by their mirrored shapes. my mother is here with me now. i feel like i am in early grade school. come home from school in the afternoon. most times i remember how it ~feels~. sometimes i get to see little clips. yes, i said i "get to see". it feels like a gift. i miss her so much. i want to go back and live it all over again. and again. and again..
