It began when the blackberry bushes, all thorns and stems from deep winter and frosted over, shone through the daybreak light. Sand alpaca shawl swiveling around my arms, fingertips cold. Throat, heart and cheeks warm from honeyed hot chocolate. Writing in the moments before the world awakens, Currents & Wings was born in my mind. Scanning perceptions and memory for what it is to connect to the currents of one’s nature and Nature itself, both uncontrollable, with Ease. To simultaneously align with and hone expression, the lone wild calls out into chaos of individual creation, the experiences sought and made. It feels good to group adjectives, conjure a scene and feeling tone with choice words. Things just happen. We, our cells, astronomical bodies, we choose. It is not force that makes things Go. To create is to choose to create, not to force oneself and resist that very forcing. The blackberry vines and branches curve relentlessly around one another in a heaping heaving form, taller than the neighbor’s shed and the very window through which I see them. Mustard, gold, some green and a dusty rose. Umber. Deep browns. Muted.

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