Like the corners of a beach blanket on a windy day, seems like certain aspects of life are forever flappin free.

But, hey — is that a bad thing?

A stubborn streak of wind can pick up a lot of answers.

And if we’re not too busy trying to keep things the way we think they should be —

If we are able to stop and listen —

Well, we might just hear something to help us on our way. 

Sure, there’s good that can come from putting things in order.  But I find that the more time I spend straightening, labeling, and stacking things in neat little piles — the more panicked I feel when the wind picks up again.

So why not just let the wind blow through your life?

Let it turn your perfect hair into a fright wig.

Pick up things you think you can’t live without — and scatter them beyond your reach.

Maybe some new dust will do your piles good —

And anyway, you can always pick out the cigarette butts and go on.

That’s easy enough.

My art flows from the patterns & paths of my lived experience which ⏤ like yours ⏤ are at once deeply personal and entirely universal.

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