to what point is there emptiness?
where comes the tipping point of balance?
the void is where creation exists.
i notice my tendency to fill things, cover them.
what is a stopping point?
When is something finished?
what happens when i do something opposite of what i would normally be inclined to do?
are we really too busy to take that little bit of extra time to make something truly amazing?
what is a strong bind without something to connect to?
I've been in a beautiful state of inquiry as i create more empty journals to inspire others to do the same in this self-excavation. thus, roots paper goods & writers block is born.