Every collage is like a healing…
no, every collage is a healing.
Sitting in the unknown, magazines and images strewn about;
sometimes first a feeling arises inside;
something moves through;
something that wants to be expressed, healed, heard, seen.
There is barely thought,
just movement, an impulse
Observe; feel; listen.
Magazines opening
Images calling
Colors whispering
Tearing paper
Getting the edges just right
Shapes emerging
Gluing paper on paper.
Each piece finds its perfect place
What is it that longs to be created, expressed?
No mistakes;
If it doesn’t feel right, glue over it.
Always a process, ever evolving.
The collage longs to create itself.
Life Pulse ever present…
Expansion, searching, tearing, gluing…
Stillness, movement slows down, stops…
Contraction, observing, feeling, noticing…
Stillness, resting, in not knowing…
Waiting for the next wave of creation.

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