Forgotten.

I think somewhere between last spring and the middle of fall, I lost my direction. I have wandered around in what feels like a wilderness for a while looking for something to lead me in the direction, never looking in the right places, feeling forgotten. Going through the motions but never changing where I look. I feel like I finally have the scent... but I'm still on the path, this meandering path, called life.

"I don't believe in total freedom for the artist. Left on his own, free to do anything he likes, the artist ends up doing nothing at all. If there's one thing that's dangerous for an artist, it's precisely this question of total freedom, waiting for inspiration and the rest of it."

—Federico Fellini, I'm a Born Liar

Reading Culture Making and spending time digesting what I read has been pretty convicting... but then again so has a lot lately.  I seem to be praying for direction a lot lately becasue I'm wandering around (or maybe more of sitting still) confused.

**artwork; "Waiting for Inspiration" by Leith O'Malley