constellations
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Yesterday, I felt drawn back into my digital archive—over 14,000 images spanning decades of making and becoming. As I began curating and compositing, I realized many of these works weren’t incomplete; they were simply waiting. Waiting for the right context, the right emotional season, the right impression. Waiting for now. Works in progress often stir
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I’ve been exploring what inner authority feels like now, at seventy-three — learning to let the many parts of me listen to one another instead of striving to lead. It’s the same balance I’m seeking in my art and writing, especially in my poem Tether of Knowing—how do we honor the edges and still find