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As I understand it, writing fiction has its roots in the left side of the brain where language is the medium, while visual art emanates from the right side where image, color, light are the mediums. It seems a facil description for the process of painting or writing as in both there is, for me, more faith and recognition than logic. In both cases I have had to work blind, with no map or plan to carry me forward. A character appears, or a sentence, and the story begins. In painting, in my case with acrylics, color comes first, the marks on canvas, and something happens or doesn't. I can only recognize it when it's there, a process that may take several days, or may occur in a moment. And underpinning the whole is the gift of a lifetime of living, and learning and seeking meaning. Here my powers of description or understanding break down and I am left with splotches and words and the hope, or faith, that a power greater than what I know or understand has a hand in this. How else could there be coherence where there was none to begin with? Where that coherence comes from probably matters very little, where it goes, or what it becomes, and what it takes with it is the whole. Finished, or unfinished, it is what matters.