I see it too, alas.

when everything that got you here is only somewhat useful for the next step

In memory of The Time this windshield bird poop looked JUST like a baby owl trudging up a slope, ski mitts wielding poles

I still have first-person memories from childhood feeling irritable that I was so small. I couldn’t wait to be bigger, so there was always something to anticipate. As an adult I do love emotional growth, but imagine if it was as concrete as getting an inch taller each year?

Thinking about the trancelike flow of sketching while on the phone with a friend.

(drawn on Paper, that iPad app)

critical to remember — a cat turning their back on you is a great show of trust

watch for tiny portals out in the world, hiding in plain sight

I drew this a while back. Looking at it now, I think about how a bonsai’s gnarled shape reflects every insult it endured to live so long. A flower twisting in the wind, though, can thrive via floppiness