I look at this picture of found objects. 2 from yesterday 4/11/2022. The other was found abandoned and washed away at the location of the Atlanta recycling center that I once built my artwork on when discarded shortly after my trip to Paris. Stories told and taken elsewhere. What was captured while here or there? I can't help but try to find all of our connections. As we get collected in a jar by others, what are we left with? Who are we if not the identity of our life experiences and what we learn? Who are we as a company if we are empty of what we stand for and believe in? Built by others on either side, there is a difference when one believes in something and the other takes advantage from the knowledge of experience.

Things get rewritten, erased, labels placed on them and repackaged. Ideas are meant to spread and to grow. Tweaks throughout history prove this as society and personal experience expands into a branched areas forgetting our roots. The fruits of our labors are there to nourishment. The foundation of society and thought was built on agricultural structure. When tending to gardens it is important to note that things become sacred because they provide for the sustainability of life. What we eat and what it provides is very important and that can be taken physically or mentally in what we bring into our bodies. To take from that garden without permission is a careless task of thinking of your own nourishment vs. that of those that grew it to begin with. With zero regard to patience and time. The instant gratification that one sought comes at a cost that can never be replaced and the owner of the garden never forgets in their struggle to continue to try to eat.

Throughout history, stories get modified and some cultures become lost in the process while others gained and strengthened elsewhere. As we search for identity, it comes from a safe space of who we surround ourselves with and where we house ourselves personally or professionally. That is even if we are afforded a home at all where nature takes care in all circumstances. Blank pages to some where words were once written, stories that stand the test of time are the ones that can be transformed with cross-references to search for universal answers.

Our story that was caught was the exploitation of the very people that build the brands of power. Picked over here and there, picked on, discounted yet somehow a necessity to survive. When pulling from those trees, it is important to remember those that have not fully developed yet. In regards to our lives and my complete breaking of age discrimination law in theory, it is essential to note that it is not just about over 40 but also who knows what and who has what means. A sliding scale essential without going into means as a separate argument not yet had. There are great examples of positive or negative and never can everything be grouped into one.

Life is funny in how things work out and this takes strength to write knowing my personality is there as well. There is U and there is I. We work and are asked more for less until we forget what it is we were originally. Have we forgotten who we were meant to be while others watch knowing who we are? When we discover others like us and where they are kept, we find that our journey there involved time and riddles.
I saw in the sky once a battle between a lion and a unicorn. The lion transformed into the shape of a bull before singularly leaving the image of a unicorn. Transformation that led to agreements and connections elsewhere. Who am I supposed to be anymore knowing I am watched over in every area. Is it a fall in line or is it equal protection/attack? There is who I was, who I am and who I want to be that is variable based on environment and security. As our stories get collected elsewhere and funnelled out names get forgotten, lost and transformed.

I suppose yesterday was symbolic for I knowing that process of the unknowns work and their value. That have been made to pay for their creativity to be locked elsewhere. A march from the SEA keeps me guessing why my fascination for the beach since childhood factors in. At night the winds push the sands in minor patterns of rhythms and visuals.

I carried with myself my life experience knowing prior I visited a place of abandonment before on multiple fronts to now a place to help build homes. A garden visit with empathy for Medusa knowing my version elsewhere is not a personification and spelled differently. A garden trip where reflection was had in sight. Reflective of what was worn on my head I know the meanings behind it when faced with stolen dreams. A starter kit for adaptability learned over time.

I suppose there are Scarlet Letters and then there are Golden Letters. One a judgement to some and the others a sign of appreciation. We all struggle and it is always either internal or a spectator sport. Judgement on either side. I suppose the Advice I can give is that when things get buried deep, they eventually resurface. It is appropriate to know that stories translate when we are able to understand them. From a child stand-point, it is the introduction of anamorphic characters to help ease us into the world of understanding once we grow out of the influence of those who raise us. From there books build imagination and we begin to form our own ideas based on familiarity of what came before. As adults we either retain the sense of that wonder or it is conditioned to fade away. As few adults have nightmares, it is interesting to wonder why that is as dreams become more realistic to where we are in life.
I suppose I look at that crossroad and find the middle ground to be iconic. An Armory on one side with all the resources to combat. The other side a building of secrets placed before with a story of an artist who struggled while believing in dreams. As I've crossed from one and the other at different times of my life, I am reminded of my time at the Gryphon and a clock stood still. Reality vs. Mythology knowing this is an important message to give respect to either side.

I imagine this image will be reshot at some point but I didn't want to damage the book. I already saved it but the thought of honey covering it is there to preserve a message. As one side collects Everything and I have Nothing. I fight for Everything know we have forgotten words along the way. Lessons taught on supporting one another and not taking Advantage.

I suppose maybe that is one of the many facets to Evermore. Teachable lessons from Siblings day that even if we are completely different from one another, respect and acknowledgement knowing we face each other every day. How we act is either accordingly to our personality or we are forever locked in a standstill of stone. Acknowledgement had of one another knowing some of what lies within either.

So many A-games to be had. :)