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About Quick as a Bunny:

“I've been mired in process for months now; stalling out at every turn as I labour through the muck of evolution. Is this how a butterfly feels before it finally breaks the threads of the cocoon to open its wings and glory in its new found freedom and form?

All seems lost and redundant and futile. The battle is immense and foreign and debilitating and lethargy inducing. This is artist's block in its full indifference. I hate it.

I am not excited by this process. I feel like I've been skinned and left to flee from the predators of judgment. My glistening blood soaked muscles shining in the sun as I run in white eyed panic from the predators of conformity. Leaving behind a blazing red trail of musty iron scent that even the most moribund fear could follow.

Hello my heart, I don't want to fight any more, I don't want to flee any more. What must I do to appease your endless desire for truth? Hold my hand before I flay what's left of my flesh in desperate atonement for imagined transgression. Can we meet somewhere and find common ground? Can we break bread together in sacred silence? Make peace and begin the dance anew?"