I had a glass of wine with my oatmeal last night

Comfort food and catnip. That's what it has come down to. My head is so fractured with focuses the threads careen forward with untrammeled exuberance. I have eight serious pieces in process and I flit from one to another like a ping pong ball on crack.

Must focus. Must breathe.

I think it was the time away from the studio that did it. Images flicker in my short term memory with such a radiance of immediacy that I am compelled to follow their paths.

Pollinators, detail, Paula Kovarik

Bifurcation. It's a word that floated to the top of my mind the other day. A word that ended up being my vocabulary word-for-the-day. Why? I have no clue. But bifurcate it did. It means "to fork or divide into two branches." So when I look it up on the web the standard rabbit holes show up on Google where scientists and mathematicians start explaining bifurcation theory. The diagrams look suspiciously like my brain on dual focus mode. And I start to study bifurcation diagrams thinking that maybe the answer lies in a mathematical model. STOP.

Lately my bifurcation looks like this:

Can too many ideas lead to fuzzy thinking?