Then, just as I was dropping off to sleep, snuggling close to my husband, the strangeness of that odd characteristic of my art came to mind, how when something once became part of a work's basic structure it became locked into my reality. And I wondered how other people managed to do it, the non-artists among us who kept from repeating history. If so, that would explain it. Would make the difference. An interesting concept.
Art is the science of subtlety.
Subtlety leads to awareness. And the realization came that life was a continuous miracle, an ongoing revelation. There was always something new to learn, something new to think about. Always a fresh aspect of life to focus on, work into my art. I would have it no other way.