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Today I took a picture of my studio space and realised how much it had changed since three weeks ago. I'm working on the floor now because it’s helpful to use the perimeter of each square tile to contain each work. Looking at pictures of my progress, I am begining to suspect I have lesser control over the development of my works than I thought I had.

I'm constantly at the mercy of the amount of light that finds its way into the space, the sounds from new and old birds exploring the hill behind, the colors of the walls I move to and fro from and the lines on the ground of which I shuffle about.

I am like clay, molded by every bit and inch of my environment. There are a million things happening beyond my ability to perceive. To think that I am in control is ridonculous. I am here to participate.

I also accidentally scanned a cleaning cloth today that looks like a happy leap.


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