![17730134825366757304976304186783.jpg](https://files.peakd.com/file/peakd-hive/tikatarot/23vi6Jd4qqmDkdDK2erY34pJqvRsU86hk9ZzcAY46PEpf6UAxFuAFEJnfNgdVV6fTt4BT.jpg) ![topfeather.png](https://files.peakd.com/file/peakd-hive/tikatarot/jVIY8Tx5-top-feather.png) I grew toward the light that someone else had already found; I notice how I copied what I admired before I understood why it moved me, I grew toward the light that I admit I borrowed shapes and rhythms like my own training wheels, because my own voice felt too small at first to carry a full ride, I grew toward the light that I confess there’s tenderness in being a beginner, but also embarrassment, maybe I just want to look original before I’ve really earned it, I grew toward the light that can I respect my early adaptations without letting it become my final home, I grew toward the light that I thank the teachers and still keep walking toward my own path… I inherit the idea into my own hands, I notice the shift when I stop tracing outlines and start bending the work through my own wounds and full continue to wander, I inherit the idea into my own hands, I admit I worry someone will say it isn’t unique, even though my life has already altered the way I carry my own story, I inherit the idea into my own hands, I confess I want my work to sound like me all the time on a tired day and on a brave day, not like a mask I wear for someone else’s approval, I inherit the idea into my own hands, am I willing to risk being disliked in order to remain true to who I am, I inherit the idea into my own hands, I keep rewriting until the words pass through my own bruises and joys and return with a voice that is mine, I collect the small little fragments, I notice inspiration hides in ordinary places, in overheard lines, in old packaging, in a dream that sometimes fades by breakfast, I collect the small little fragments, I admit I used to ignore these crumbs because they felt too random, but randomness is sometimes where my own needs sneaks in, I collect the small little fragments, I confess my mind is a messy drawer, and my job is to pick one honest anchor and build my own spaces around it, I collect the small little fragments, can I trust the tiny dots to lead me somewhere that is reality mine to see, I collect the small little fragments, I gather them gently and begin letting them settle into a form that makes quiet sense, I guard my inner freedom, I notice desire can trap me just as fast as anger can, because both make me reactive and both make me forget the choices I carefully made, I guard my inner freedom, I admit the world can’t always block my plans, but my own labels and impulses can, and that’s the part I can actually change and control, I guard my inner freedom, I confess I want steadiness more than intensity, and peace more than the thrill of constant reaction, even when my old patterns push back, I guard my inner freedom, will I choose small achievements today instead of chasing another promise of making a thousand more, I guard my inner freedom, I stay here with my life and let it be enough, because peace begins the moment I stop arguing with what already is, Watchwords Training wheels until my voice grew, I reshape the idea through bruises, Inspiration hides in ordinary places, Pick one honest object and build, I stay here with my life, ![bottomfeather.png](https://files.peakd.com/file/peakd-hive/tikatarot/bYIitQga-bottom-feather.png) *** Here is Tikatarot, who dares you to answer the question, *“Who am I?”..* *** *** As and will always be reminding you to dream: *“As you are still the Master of your destiny and the maker of your dreams…”* ![tikatarot sign.png](https://files.peakd.com/file/peakd-hive/tikatarot/cUPh7Abd-tikatarot20sign.png)

Expres