I remember feeling the world spinning when I was standing still Every decision felt like moving marble stone to create foundations for buildings I had yet to design I just wished someone had told me those marble stones were made of plaster still heavy but with the capability to be chiseled and moved. Look at me. Speaking as if I've got a clue like this Lincoln Log cabin means I've got it all figured out when I am really a pebble being tossed about in the current attempting stability only to be topped over by gentle rapids and vomiting stream. I've only just become content with my place as a pebble choosing how the rive will wear on me. It can Fracture me, scar my edges, chip them into urchin spines or beat me soft. Mold me into the kind of pebble kids learn to skip stones with the kind that is painted vibrantly and left in our National Parks instead of the kind that embed themselves in bare skin and rip the bottoms of your feet to shreds. I don't have it all figured out but I have a clue about the kind of rock tossed about the river that I want to be.
