It sort of stuns me sometimes that things happen.
That if I write ‘I’, a simple bold stroke down the page, that that mark could mean – well, you. Or me. Or somebody mythical and magical and pulled from a story told a long time ago. Or somebody who, until the marking (making) of that I, did not even exist. That that line, that line can be the sum and the whole and the everything of what they are and what they can be. And a second ago it did not even exist.
That stuns me, you know, it really does. That there’s a way to just simply – create.
And that people can see that creation and interpret that and come together and make it mean.That they can touch on the meaning at the heart of it and through that touching make it live (live, live, live). That so much can come together for them (that everything can collide and let them come together) and that they can make something – else. The spiralling of creation. The mark made bold. The mark remixed and painted, sewn, shaped, baked – that it can and does happen – it’s amazing.
So here’s to you, you readers and makers and breakers of things. Here’s to you.