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I am a maker.

Molded by,

My mother’s meticulous mending.

My body’s endless crescendos of energetic releases.

Of feet pounding footprints into mountain trails—handprints on rock rails.

Eyes running, fleeting, flirting with, sitting with, slowing, capturing.

Nature’s unfolding drama.

A child’s developing brain.

Every.Day.Human.Pain.

Integrating into, onto, through—

Tapestries, canvases, books, blocks.

I am a maker.

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