I know of many artists who claim their best work is born from pain.
Like the blaze of colours when switching from night to day.
Change can be beautiful.
Gut wrenchingly amazing. Precipitous. Destinal.
I haven't written a post in a long time. It's like I don't have much to say. A plateau I suppose.
I shudder to think of a life-long plateau.
This blog – while a scrapbook of family moments for us – has captured our growth.
It hasn't been easy. It isn't easy.
Growing is hard work. Much harder than decaying. Plateauing.
We see the world differently.