Living a lie denies a half of our whole. Combustion was simmering in a dark corner of my world. The goal had been to only entertain and represent a warm positive visual while my inner being was screaming, pounding on the bars, “It is a lie.”
In my experience paintings reflect an inner need long before I can see it. I was needing to embrace and tell the truth of a cold, yet beautiful place in my memories. Eventually I understood the need to gain a new perspective on my past memories.
Like the fissure I would eventually metaphorically walk through, this person who despises the cold, created a tesseract to another perspective.
Then I walked through.
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