I am.
I am my thoughts.
I am how I treat others.
I shape my name, and my name shapes me.
I shape creations, and my creations shape me.
How I wish every interaction was the true me.
And now I feel.
That’s what art is.
Refinement, procedure.
Channeling big tectonical plates of tension, into smaller and smaller pieces. So that more may flow.
I like that thought.
It’s hard to form words for feelings, it’s a skill. It’s like digesting. You’re processing something. It feels good.