This mountain of paint may be my way of making new beginnings.
Not masking marks anymore. These well placed white layers will wall me in while washing away the wasteful bitterness I’ve held down for the sake of survival.
Maybe this really is one piece of healing solitude I should be seeking: an obstacle to be scaled and savored alone so the ‘who’ I sought in here may stand beside me again.
We will see eye to eye and say what we need to say, thus making my feet break free from the concrete I chose to sink in.
Each new step will find free-form kinetics brought back from past tachometers that never needed to be destroyed.
Now I mark a spot where movements are made by choice, not necessity.