Oh Cup, Spilleth Over...

Worlds within worlds!
Flowing in every which direction with no idea of where we are going.
Our path a myriad of happenings, layers of interactions and intersections.
Our direction dependant on the exact tilt of the flipped cup that makes us US, all before we reach the age of 7, the foundations of our being already set in motion before we are even 4 years old, at the first moments of amnesia, when we have forgotten why we chose the colours we chose to manifest as we have.... when we are at the start of a new flow of being formed.

A puff of air, breath of the wind, creating spaces in between the masses of colour that becomes our 'pattern', our personality, our. way of being in the world...
At times our eyes focus on a particular space, a corner of our being, and cease to see the incredulous possibility that exists in the full picture.

Fractals of cells, joining and separating, becoming whole as they split apart, blissful moments when we fail to distinguish our bodies from another, we are one when we are all that is, in time and space.. until the paint starts to dry and we solidify our perspectives of our lives, when the stories inside our patterns reveal air bubbles and stray drips, when we have forgotten that all it takes to recreate ourselves is another full cup of paint, filled to the brim with whatever colours we choose to spill, for us to begin another chapter of our lives, another masterpiece just waiting to happen, unknown, mysterious, divine and infinitely perfect every time.