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Thread Bare

I feel threadbare. I have been writing my way through the winter, partially to keep myself going through dark, hectic days.  I write at nights when I cannot sleep. I take pictures during days that sometimes are full of boredom or drudgery, but also, of course, wonder.  Time at this moment seems to drag on but also is so fleeting that I do not want it to pass unnoticed, unappreciated.

Waking up to the secret world and ushering in the dark night has been making me wonder aloud...should I continue to shine light on those invisible threads or should I leave those musings as private things. Exploring my own inner world and wondering about the inner worlds of my children is surprising and interesting to me and creatively absorving but it also, sometimes, makes me feel vulnerable.  Such delicate threads those mutable memories and impressions that have for so long stayed, confined and bottled, only to be opened and spread out to be picked up, interpreted and thought about by others. Is that wise?  Am I strong enough to leave that tiny entry open?

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