Here, with words, I struggle as I do with sound and light.

Whether alone or with another, most often, showing myself, honestly, openly, is difficult, complex. I yearn to be known, but time for this is scarce, so rare, and if I feel the slightest risk that something is not welcomed or understood, I hold back, I keep a part of me safe from view. I wish this wasn't so.

Friendship is my place of trust. It is where best I hope and share my art, my life. In this I place my love.

Belief is not imposed. It arises through trust earned by honourable and consistent actions.

'Woke' and 'Political Correctness': the avoidance of language and actions that exclude, marginalize, or insult people who are disadvantaged or discriminated against. These phrases are also used as derogatory terms to downplay and divert attention from questionable behaviour.

I am struck by how the word lie hides within the word believe.

Violence occurs with the failure to fuel a desire or need: for self, for power, for control, for love.

Once exposed to violence or the depiction of violence, once violent, its next occasion does not shock with the same force. Violence leads to violence. Hate, to hate. Those violent show themselves as feeble in mind and spirit. They are without inner strength, without honest friendship, they are damaged, alone.

Violence harms those causing, receiving, and observing it. I am not, nor will I ever be its slave.