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“It is the way it is and always has been, and that is enough. The tracking number leads to revelation.”

"As the years pass, the veil lifts. I am entitled to more because I am more.”

“Only after I am made a fool do I see it...or even think it's possible. My tenderness is spontaneous. But not the world, no not the world.”

“Like splits in a path, fractured and crawling as a web, the choices map my story.” As time passes, my solid memories are dislodged from themselves.  They start to float free in the level of possibilities. Some may call it forget. I may call it selective remembrance.  Time shapes things like the gentle trickling of water.  Steady and predictable.  Constant and pure.  Inevitable and powerful. Plate tectonics are real, but no-one can feel the plates shift.  Even the ones in earthquakes can't believe what they experienced was real.   If I went back in time, would I make the same choices I did the first time around?  Would I blame circumstances, or own my mistakes? Would I even make the same...

This painting is a diagram of energy being regulated.  It is a glimpse into the invisible world of natural justice.