Hinged. Joined. Held together and hopefully allowing for a smooth opening. But there are cracks and wild creatures slip in. Rustlings. But we are hinged, breaking down, rusty. Sometimes becoming unhinged. Trying to hold it all together. Looking for openings. Cracks. I am reminded of these random thoughts as a friend states that creative pursuit is not something that is in his near future. I am trying to ponder abundance and how to help. How to allow some freedom and what gift I can offer. I am thinking of escape. Stepping back in time, or far enough away that one cannot be reached. Moving beyond the barn door to a time without cell phones and laptops, and constant contact.