Betwixt here and there, caught in the inbetween veils, I reach out and you take my hand, lead me into dream, into story, into deep wells of ink. In my ears I hear your ethereal whispering in ancient breath, brought to life again when I muster the strength to wrap my fingers around a pen, a paintbrush, or pure lead.

Time and space do not exist with you. It is always now, in this moment. Presence and consciousness make for blurred lines and hungrily eat up any boundaries like hungry dragons. The fiery passion they breathe out surrounds and nurtures, keeping the lust of harm at bay. I see it at the edges; those black monsters with pins for fur and needle teeth reflecting blazing fire. Here, I am safe with the muses of creativity.

When I’m allHere leftThere mist brings clarity where before there were only planets aligning. This processPlace tracking Divine footprints in the snow cannot be mapped but I know the way, rememberings of images spoken to me.

In this Everywhere we conjure great alchemy:

Mixing opposites with stardustSunMoonlight collidingkillingrebirthing until it can flow back to where I just came from futuretime, rightnow.

Here, take my hand and lead me into dream, into story, through hearts of shadowy beasts so that I might fill my quill with their dark blood and spill it out onto paper, offerings made and brought to light.