The Way It Is: You are both slave and master to your mind. Zero, yet All.

You’ve got the power to change your mind, and it’s crucial that you do; for you will be a slave to your mind. You will, in each split second not directly commanded, be on Auto Pilot. You will convince yourself through your actions and applications ONLY, and not through constant, repetitious thoughts of the dream of changing. Dreams are where possibilities and truths are born free and wild, and generally in your conscious favor: to embed. But some things buried as seed, whether intentional or not, are growing – having been buried away from the light of awareness and continuous re-action.

Hyacinthe Adam brought us home today. How cool and beautiful! It has to be turned 45 degrees everyday so it remains balanced vertically as it grows, always leaning toward the sun. Can’t wait to watch it grow and BLOOM! When it’s done and gone, this is going to make a great jar for brushes.

I think I can re-work and improve on some of my art and hone better craftsmanship skills (not the priority, however…)

Hmm. What are the priorities right now? Life is so new to me. This…life is fucking crayyyyyyzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzeeeeeeeeeee-e-e-ee-ee-eeeee. Here I am, the same being, but hardly recognizing anything because of how much things change and have changed. I’m the same person, but not at all…or is any of that true? I work so hard, and talk to so many people. I feel huge bands of power coming out of me and through the space we occupy. The waves of energy (all power. All weild power). Everyone pushing, leaking, vomiting, irradiating, radiant and outward as an angel’s welcome-home.

Tired, and will start again tomorrow. lol some people work this hard for years and I have, too. But I feel like this is a new kind of work. A new kind of home, but that’s so strange that everything changes and changed. Wow. Like they say, “life is a ride”. Anyway, I’ve got to go to my lovely bed.

Wednesday, 9pm

We cannot act to align with our stars, we just do. We just do.

I may need to publish every day now, for a while. It might be the healthy thing to do. A small, something-creative, to cut a hole into the side of this daily-grind kind of Olympics I have gotten myself into. Today, I, laughing, shaking my head, said, “fuck this shit, god”. Sometimes, I hate it here.

But, hey. At least I got to take my own picture.

Author: Jen Crow

©Jen Crow. Be sure to ask for permission to use artwork for your project or supply a proper link for your blog. I warmly welcome comments and questions.

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