salvaging psychelicisms

The dreams have been ultra psychedelic this past year and there is no rocket science explanation. The body has spent a majority of the past 365 days around visual artists: immersed in their process from development to execution, up until the last moments prior to their formal presentations. It's been like imagination 101- trying to recondition the normal/formal way of thought, pushing originality from every angle, and being satisfied with never being satisfied.

And for now, the left brain needs some tender loving care (for the next four months.)

So, to the right brain, I (temporarily) bid adieu.