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It is my hope to create seductive forms, and surfaces that make you want to touch, learn, and experience the unfamiliar. Here you will find my inspiration as well as snapshots from my creative journey; Delightful morsels of beauty, history, mystery, and truth. Enjoy. And pass it on...


Expectations Are The Root Of All Evil.

Expectations really are evil. Rarely met. And overall, way more trouble than they are worth.
The good news? The only ones we have, are the only ones we make. Marinate.

(via wasteofpaint)

On a recent information adventure...
I stumbled upon this little bit. And in a strange way, though this writing is rather melancholy, it made me feel ok. Ok about who and where I am. Ok about my failures/ victories and it reminded me- that we all feel lost - sometimes. And if we don't STOP. And take time to look around and appreciate TODAY. NOW. We might miss something small. Small but Amazing. And that would really suck. Because the small things really are what make life Grand.
 "it is hard not be sad when you start to understand the train you're riding in. the nature of it, this life i mean. the fact that, we're all going to wait and struggle to... to write the great American novel, or, find a cure, or a man, or get a Victorian house in the neighborhood we want. and mostly, we're not going to get there. and even if we do, we're not going to be happy in the way we think we are. (the way we deserve to be). it's not just the failure of the American dream as a concept, but a failure of the way a whole generation of little boys and girls has been socialised to want certain things that we ought not want. because, maybe my momma was wrong. it is soo unlikely that i will ever be a high-court judge. a pulitzer-prize winner. a president, ambassador of governor-general. any someone you've heard of. life is going to be a great big mass of grey. people better off, people worse off, people trying to make rent and women sick of reminding their husbands to fix the sink and men sick of hearing their girlfriends nag. children who don't get enough attention, because children deserve more attention then there are hours in this universe, and the parents who hate themselves for not knowing how to fit it all into a day - all this dammit baggage. this was a hard year for my sense of uniqueness, which... perhaps has not made it to the finishing line. everywhere i look i feel a death pang for that sense of... i can be a somebody! that i once had. on one level, it's positive. it's a hit to the demons in me. the egos and the (my therapist would remind me) narcissism. also, it's a calming force. to just 'be'. f*ck it, come what will, i've made my peace i'm not the next Obama, or, as she says when i disappear to study can you take a few hours off from saving the world to have dinner with me?"
My journeys first led me here: Ghettoblashter. And then here: Submerged Submersible

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