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There were parts of our lives and selves and pasts in need of kind attention and forgiveness.  Painting has been a practice of forgiving, pulling out old rolled up, stretched out or poofed canvases, pieces that felt incomplete, unloved / forever unfinished, and with colors that Z would send me from her deep mesmeric meditations: violet fire, magenta river water, tanzanite sky, earl grey lavender, emerald purple dream mixes blue and pink sapphire! and I would smudge with Screaming Eagle sage and follow something / a body spirit comprehensible course, yet each painting contained its own peculiar musical solution, its own knot to untie, its own peacemaking.  I would take photos in the pooled parts of the process where beech and maple trees reflected in violet and gold dragons, and when the moment was complete and unrepeatable, I’d send a shot to Z, with dragon tiger star purple hearts and a bunch of lips, It was like the eyes of the Beloved were actually moving the colors, and like the melting of mountain vapor, I was purely enabling a seeing

Painting is a reflection of the depths we Love

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