We do not grow absolutely, chronologically. We grow sometimes in one dimension, and not in another; unevenly. We grow partially. We are relative. We are mature in one realm, childish in another. The past, present, and future mingle and pull us backward, forward, or fix us in the present. We are made up of layers, cells, constellations. -Anais Nin
Well, hello there. I figured I'd better get started on this blog, now that I have some spare time. I'm not quite sure what the point of it is, but maybe that is the point- that there is none. Let this be a space for creativity of expression, and if you feel like adding to the mix, please feel free.
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