newfound agoraphobia

I used to draw trees aching to lift their roots out of the soil, looking up jealously at sparrows.

I was gonna base my entire senior exhibit on this concept before I decided to stir the contents of my head and spill 'em out on boxframes, a la "thinking out loud".

Looking back, the trees I drew never knew how terrifying it was for the sparrows to be cast into the air.

Never satisfied, am I...? You know what, I wish I had been born with giant felt tip pens for feet and that I had this 23-year old line, growing gradually thicker with the size of my feet, some permanent marker highlight of my life's path on every surface my feet touched, some tangible way to retrace old steps without having to think about it. Felt tip feet, damn it! I want 'em.