looking at my art/my art looking at me

i looked through one of my archived* boxes of art today (i use that term loosely, imagining true art archivists agasp). it was a wonder and a joy and a fondness and a remembrance and things i don't have words for. 

it was inspiring and humbling. so many small pieces as i approached it all so tentatively then. now as i'm approaching larger pieces - first large-large palette knife just arrived - seeing the small ones just touched something.

as i touched all of them i realized they were touching me. they are a they. they didn't exist before, and now they were looking at me look at them and it was lovely and sweet. 

i'm preparing to create a new page with some of the pieces put into recycled frames. i'm finally ready to let them go be with someone who is also touched by them.