“I took a deep breath and listened to the old bray of my heart: I am, I am, I am.” Sylvia Plath
Do you ever get that feeling - whether in art, work, pleasure or a recipe...
a phantom limb of sorts...
Something you can't quite put your finger on. It is none-the-less present in its definable absence.
What's missing?
Must you have experienced a condition in order to truly recognize its opposite?
When is it appropriate to actively identify, seek out and find this missing piece? Or will it naturally present itself when the time is ripe?
“Freedom is strangely ephemeral. It is something like breathing; one only becomes acutely aware of its importance when one is choking.” William E. Simon
