Conceiving another, the otherness takes shape and form, and in that otherness, our attention fixates. We become what we see.
Imagining all sorts of roles for oneself, we begin to live the life we have always dreamed of, never stopping long enough to shake the delusion off. There are no dreams, only reality at work.
Walking, our feet touch the ground ever so lightly and in our haste, the actions we undertake become robotic and unknowing. Or so it seems.
Capturing our attention, we thirst.
Creating is such a wonderfull hobby. Just remember to put away the yarn when you are done.