That’s my phrase of the moment. I feel like I’m in a state of flux.

I’ve been reflecting on State of Flow I and State of Flow II. Flowing water is in a state of flux.

Does that make me a river? Squeezed out of a tiny hole, small to start with, fast and quick, agile, fresh and exciting, periods of calm punctuated with the tumbles and effervescence of waterfalls and weirs, twisting and turning, carving out my way, sustaining the lives of others, being held back and contained by dams until being finally released, picking up along the way, depositing along the way, slowly getting wider and wider, slower and slower, filling up with sludge and pollution, before finally being discharged into a mass of indeterminate nothingness.