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Trade Them in Daily

Cherie in the Stairwell looking out Window at Parking Garage.

As I look over the old images I realize that they must become new images. The images, though digitized, are still maleable. Only now the ink is no longer like ink, it has become like charcoal, only my fingers do not get dirty. I have never liked getting my fingers dirty with pastel or charcoal.

This old image became new. Soon I will forget what the old image ever looked like. The image should undergo an evolution like this, until it has been deemed correct by the creator or alterer. Of course, correct is a completely subjective term. But so is the Plaza of the Mind.

It is my mind. It is subjective. It can be no other way.

I have created thousands of images. They are in a large file setup waiting to be corrected and displayed. Soon all of the images will be corrected. They will come closer and closer to the image that was originally in my mind's eye. When the image transcends print space and enters into the tactile I will know that I was successful.

This image is almost there but it may need more work.

I will not stop until I can no longer continue.

That is my promise to you, and more importantly, to myself.

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