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This month I’ve been thinking a lot about play, and its relationship to art. Why do we create these divided images of the serious adult and the playful child? Shouldn’t a child be responsible (to an extent), and an adult engage in play?

I sometimes come home from work and watch the shadows on my wall slowly shift as the day progresses. It gives me a joy that’s hard to put in words, but it’s as if the sun and wall are teenagers giggling and teasing each other.

I’m trying to tune in more to the part of me that sees objects (and people) like this. Bundles of energy, tickling, poking each other, exploring and pushing boundaries, finding new meanings in the same old things.