how is this surprising? All good artists evolve their craft.

that last one reminds me of DUNE

"Walk With Who You Are"

When we were children, our mother always used to say, “Question everything. Especially yourself.”

Why does the smell of burning wood stir such deep, primal feelings? Why does the sound of flute music borne on the breeze bring feelings of intense joy and sadness? How can this be relational memory when we cannot recall the memory itself? Misfiring in the hippocampus. Genetic memory. Or maybe, just a snake devouring its own tail, for eternity. Nursery rhymes endlessly repeating, drifting down a trail of mist and smoke.

Such staggering immensity, a shower of sparks and fleeting shadows. Like massive planetoids being smashed together in a stellar nursery. The birth of light in an endless violent collision within the retinal field. Such an exquisite piece of biological engineering, evolved over eons to discern light from dark, friend from foe. We’re not so far removed from our amphibious ancestors. A deluge of vision cascading upon the beach of our collective consciousness. Archetypal illusion? Grasping at the familiar, comforting reality. No. Breathe, submit; that is the beginning of realization. The only way to court an epiphany.

The smallest of contingencies can alter the course of our entire existence. Occam would be proud of our stubborn resolve. The truth haunts us, denying us. Why does everything have to keep changing like this? Searching for a foothold upon which to stand, to gaze out into infinity. Cast the net wide. No boundaries remain, no spatial limitations. Firelight dancing on a rock face, illuminating Plato’s cave. The shadows distorted, transformed into twisted figurines. Etchings of tribal origins, depicting antiquity. Self-replicating ochre paintings, commingling earth and imagination. They passed along their genes, we follow a lengthy lineage. What we leave behind is not as important as how we’ve lived.

And in the end, every person you’ve ever met, ever loved, ever wanted to love, ever hurt, ever hated, is right there within you. Only you can ask the questions that need answering. Tugging on her dress, impatiently awaiting her attention, our mother might just remind you…about yourself.

Thanks guys <3 Really appreciate your support.