Syncopated Synthesis

I have always loved this print and I'm so excited the create something new and useful with it. ❤️🧡💛

And with a little added whimsy, the bb girl can wear her favorite jeans again.

I'm not that "good" at it. But it pulls on something deep in the genes. <3

The muse has arrived to declare his intention to inspire.

The Prince of Resourcefulness. The Master of the Pivot.

🐿

"Sorry about that... a squirrel requested my attention through the window and I lost track of time watching him adjust his intentions to the bending of branches, the gust of the wind, the pull of gravity. Tip-toeing to the end of a narrow switch, jumping to the next just before he lost his footing."

Also... yummy bb strawberries

for she should never make the acquaintance of tomorrow.

Instead, honor the Keeper.

Who walks slowly and with empty hands,

always, and never, alone.

The whole of the world passes through her—

gaining life,

wisdom,

love,

and release.

She knows the oldest sorrow:

that nothing may be kept.

And holds the oldest joy:

that nothing true is ever lost.

Though none can hold a single moment,

with her alone,

it's truth remains forever.

For those who are eager to bury what has been,

time itself hastens toward forgetting.

While she bears the value that shaped them.

She carries what, together, they became.

And so kingdoms vanish.

And children grow old.

Lovers turn to tales.

The dead resolved into earth.

And with the river, they depart.

Of her company leave none unchanged.

Each life remains in essence,

each essence seeking its Keeper.

And on she walks,

her hands forever empty,

But I didn't.

Didn't feel the assumed gravity like I had anticipated.

Instead, that was the lightest 30 minutes of that week.

And it's fine. I just have to reconcile an entire history is all.

Rearrange things for the inner child.

So forgive me if it takes a little while.

I have come to a place where I have no need or desire to define it. I just Know it, and commit myself to walking in what feels Real.

If my lack of definition ever felt like deceit, that was not the intent.

The boundaries are not hard, yet neither am I. So, fittingly, what has formed itself to shield, comfort, and guide me takes the shape of my soul itself.

A potent reminder of how fast it's all gone.

How time doesn't stop. Or wait for us to process or catch up.