Couldn't focus much today, decided to spin my process on its head and go shaping a bit.

The mental ...disquiet(?) was rearing it's ugly head again.
Along with it comes the ever present feeling that I've lost my way. Maybe it's good to focus on small again.

Ramblings.

Along this journey, questions come up, ever present - purpose.
Easy, it is. To be enraptured by the grandiose, the ever alluring call of greatness, golden and dazzling.
I find myself swept away in the masses of color and brightness that is, perhaps, the souls of other creators.
Whose colors and visions intermingle with my own - in an ever present undertow, rips me from the shore that is my home out to the chaos, the inky black that is the ocean.
Where... death? Perhaps awaits. Death of my own vision, desire, volition?

It is... easy to get lost in the sea of one's desire, more so when the petri dish of my own world gets shaken up and mixed in with others.
What, is it then that I want?

Perhaps the foolhardy desire to answer that question is what drives me to the inane, the endless process of losing and finding my way.
The ever-changing truth, that is. That what I want, changes as I grow.
So, if it isn't my wants that shape me, perhaps it is something... more? Deep inside.
Something primal that rings out in the hallways of my subconscious, demanding to be heard!
But alas, my ears are leaden with my own thoughts, perhaps marred by the dreams of others. Mine eyes blinded by the dazzling desire of the people around me, my peers?

So what is a creator to do but remove everything that is in the way? In a quiet moment, wait, listen... and then act.
To... return, to the primordial state of slow, ever changing growth.
To return to silence. Waiting, with budding potential.
Ever so slightly moving forward.
Patiently, gently, in the quiet of the night.