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Energy being sucked up by miniature human beings and magical realism, an entangled thought. A feeling of play, and this radiating out, differing forms of energy taking shape. These energies are strange. How we use our energies, the presence of children, our own energies being diverted into their play. To play, to run to hide, to laugh to cry, to throw a tantrum to give a hug. And at the end of the day a story, of a journey through our day.

To play with words, letters, shapes, forming.
A character, 六.

Yesterday I came across the I Ching amongst a bunch of books related to an exhibition at the Camden Arts Centre, and some other books caught my eye, and I  filmed some fishes.

Into today, to play, with pictures, and words, and thoughts and feelings, these energies, this presence, into a book, journeys, a trace, a trail, asides, entangled, breathing, humming, dancing, falling, rolling, wobbling, letting go, holding on, balancing, moving.

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