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On Being Sensitive

I've often thought about what role my sensitivity plays in my work. I wonder if people walk through the world the way that I do. I get the same thrill and sense of contentment from waking up to the pitter patter of raindrops on my window as I do from seeing an old friend after a long separation. The moon lights me up like nothing else, and a gentle breeze on a sunny afternoon stirs up intense, yet insignificant memories from my youth. When I am able to sit in silence, subtle pieces of my personality are revealed, and it is endlessly satisfying for me. In my early adulthood I was keenly aware of my emotional intelligence, my observational ability, and my capacity for deep and uninterrupted contemplation of a simple idea or feeling. I didn't know how this would come to serve me in life, but I was sure that it would. For a while it came out in the writing, and then I began to make prints. For me this expression is a way to share how I see the world, but also to understand what about my experience is a common one. I want to connect with others who move about their environment as I do, and who find the deepest truth in the silence.

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