How can ones own creations freak one out? You look at it and you wonder if there is ever a way to finish it. You know you have to but it seems absolutely impossible as panic arises every single time you look at it. Is it the eyes? No. It is the mouth, the teeth and something it represents. The mouth is open, not closed. How scary. You make a long pause, tell yourself ‘maybe that‘s it.‘, while at the same time knowing that this is only a stupid little tactic to run away. So the pause goes on. You move not just once but twice. You create in-between still wondering. On a little trip to another country, another life and another community you are seen in a light that ignites into what wants to be seen and you are witnessed in looking at madness you once knew and pain that created a story that got cut and drawn on paper and canvas You learn to jump into texture. You create something showing the opposite of the madness you once lived in and just witnessed while away. And there is the moment. Suddenly a creation that once scared you takes another look at you and you finish it. Finish it into fire and anxiety becomes the phoenix burned. Not in ashes yet but fire, staring at you, mouth open to speak. The power of a burning fire, governed and perfect.