You Can't Hold Something Else If You're Busy Holding Your Heart
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I have been sitting for a while and looking at the screen and the blinking cursor and the keys have been under my fingers waiting to be put together into words that make sense of what is happening further up the arm, under the chest. There has been a lot going on but it is all stuff that has no place being talked about here. I suppose, the only fact that is important is that it is the kind of stuff that makes you hold your heart in your hand and ask yourself who you are, where you come from and how you fit into this whole mess. To be honest, I am fairly uncertain about all three at the moment. With that, there is this painting, the heart in my hand and thoughts of times long ago when the questions where different and so where the answers.... Enjoy!
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