this is the shift. sometimes i get really frightened and can't think or move my body. now is one of those moments. the hour glass is embarking upon its last mound of sand. leaking. i haven't slept. my hands are constantly shaking. i can hardly construct my art. it all looks askew and misshapen. i need to calm my body. is this real? are you real? it's too good. and so fast. i am ready. i am willing. but i am afraid. and somehow from within resides a fearless push. an aching wonder and power to prevail.