June 13th 2025

I come to this day with an anxious and open heart.
Apprehensive, pleased, curious; I am with family.
The energy — the dynamism — it’s a trip.

I woke this morning to a song… something distant I can’t quite “hear,” but I can sense a fuzzy outline.

Vulnerability — My writing with On my left hand lays bare all of my flaws and insecurities.
How can I be flawed in writing from a hand that hardly knows the feel of a pen, the flow of ink?

That expression is me in my most raw.
Raw — Stripped of armor. Laid open.
Just: expression with no pretense.
I could hardly craft an image in that handwriting if my life depended on it.

Related: my life depends on this liberty in spirit of letting go and letting fly the song of my soul.

I see, in my left hand expression, a voice to celebrate // A mirror of my self-critic.

What is to come alive must begin in raw form — elemental, minerals, ore… foundational inputs.

I honor my raw life and spirit: my new (and old) young creative energy — the build, block, and mortar for all that is yet to come.

You are safe here.