November 14, 2001
Ever look back and wonder what led to?
I keep hearing the voice, “Depart from the feathers.” Not a soft gentle whisper, but extremely strong and controlling. Maybe it’s because I know in my heart that one doesn’t need feathers to feel an extreme closeness shared with any or all animals. Insecurity rages through me! I’m always trying to one up the next step—not to predict, but better prepare for a loss. I trust no one… not even the self I am. Oh Lord, am I a sick man? Am I dangerous? I ask too many questions never locating the time to get answers. My paintings all look the same. My production sounds like yesterday. I dress like I did a week ago. What am I growing into? If I do not trust, therefore I must hate… but why everybody?