Some times I wish
I could go anyplace
I saw in mind. As
I concentrate - the
beginning picture
would start so clear,
just as I imagined it.
Whole-cloth here, then
by fine detail it would
uncoalesce, to slowly
converge upon some
there. Convergence upon
reality: the closest real
place to whatever I'd
made-up to find.
So, not perfect fit. Just
whatever was real, what
I pictured would change
to it in shift by degree
and arc, in color and line,
in shade and tone to clarity
fine
I'd lose fantasy as reality
filled, defined, came in
by intent, aimed will.
Then once it hit snap-clarity
real, I could tell - and walk
through! And find
how it feels.
I've perfected
the basic technique
so far by picturing
where I almost am,
and find the direction
in step by stride.
As soon as I get there,
the picture's arrived.
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