Over the past few months, my doodles have started to take on new life spanning pages and pages of my drawing book. I like making pictures. I like putting pen to paper and allowing the unconscious to freely bubble to the surface.
With and without doubt, physical manifestations reveal secret desires. Last week, my right shoulder was throbbing. Silent practice exposing the unwinding of that arm, violent uncoiling from crown to tail and vulnerability of my chest to the sky. Reset. Right arm, still, reaching high then urgently enfolding behind and underneath. Hands and pelvis splayed. Eyes darting, tongue begging, shrill gasping. So much preceded those moments.
I have concerns about dominance and excess.
I'm considering patience and regeneration.