—————— I’ll lose my grip instead.
unsteady nuances – the water boils over and over, until it storms off, it is angry.
I run out of gesso, the oil cracks. Pale acrylics then come to fill the void.
When the hardest part is over, the hardest part is over.
A crashing wave once said to me, in the larger scale of things, time is fluid.
———————— everything is fluid.