Tiny white baby star, bundled in pink innocence, far flung across the universe, it survives, it grows, it spreads, on and on into the full moon with a passion flower center. An eyeball, an ovum, a cycle of moons waxing, waning, birthing, becoming, fulfilling, dying. Purple and gold and red and white and black like ink from an inkwell.
For a moment I imagine I can see my life’s entirety from start to finish. Only God knows, as we may say. Tasty illusions, scary thoughts, mysteries for contemplation, what one life manifests. The potential of preconceived notions float in brilliant cosmic technicolor. Just one life. How marvelous is that?
Won’t you stop for a moment and just savor this?
Images: my open studio process drawing, May 2014. Evanston, Illinois. various pastel on paper