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| I was nearly finished with this garden painting when I saw that the whole garden itself clearly looked like one massive flower coming into full bloom. It expands its petals outward like a pair of wings, bursting forth as if held captive too long. Unbeknownst to me, the painting had become a fractal of the garden, offering a copycat dollop of itself, a snippet imitating its source. Whether we are ready or not, sometimes our creative work, like nature, overwhelms us like a solid being. It tries to go beyond what it was born into, as if it could, abracadabra, become something other than itself. | ||||