Some people arrive in a burst of resonance. They comment everywhere. They feel everything at once. They’re excited, inspired, lit up- and then they move along. There’s nothing wrong with that. But I’ve been noticing another kind of resonance lately. The kind that stays. Not constant. Not loud. Not demanding attention. Just a steady pattern of noticing, returning, contributing, and allowing someone’s work to keep unfolding over time. A burst says: “This affected me.” Consistency says: “I value what you’re building.” And I think both matter. But sustained resonance has a different texture. It becomes less about reacting to a moment and more about participating in a living exchange. 🪟🌀

Last night, Snowballer did not want to come inside. 😆🐱 The electric company recently opened a few new pathways through our yard, and apparently he has decided they require personal inspection. I found him near one of them late at night and tried to pick him up. First came the cute rolling: Look how adorable I am. Surely I can stay. Then the growl. Then the kick. Then a tiny hole in my shirt. Then he tried to get my boot as I walked away. 😂 I eventually left him alone rather than chase a determined cat through unfamiliar pathways in the dark. Then I dreamed about Yosemite Sam. 🤠 This morning I started playing with the name: “Your Sim reacted.” And suddenly I saw last night again. Snowballer had basically performed his own tiny Yosemite Sam scene - territorial, stubborn, reactive, completely himself. The important part for me isn’t declaring that the dream meant one specific thing. It’s noticing how symbolic recognition can happen after the lived experience. Something happens. The mind stores it. A dream rearranges it. A familiar image appears. And later- ears up. 🐱🪟 You notice the correspondence. No need to force certainty. Sometimes Symbolic Literacy is simply recognizing when something catches your attention and asking: “What did I already experience that this reminds me of?” Observe first. Play with it. Let meaning arrive afterward. 🌀

There is a small threshold between sleep and action, between night and day, between who we were yesterday and who we are about to be today. This morning, I noticed it. My cat usually wants outside at daybreak. Today, he stayed curled beside me. No urgency. No rush. Just warmth, quiet, and presence. Liminal spaces are not always dramatic doorways. Sometimes they are the few extra minutes beneath the blankets when nothing is asking you to become anything yet. Before interpretation. Before productivity. Before the day gathers its names. Just notice where you are. 🪟🌄🐱

This is not my regular kind of Symbolic Literacy post, but it explains an intentional boundary within my work. I do not use cupcake, hotdog, or pizza imagery in my child-facing creations. That choice is not random, superstitious, or based only on internet symbolism. Some ordinary images have become connected to very real histories of exploitation, secrecy, and harm—some of it disturbingly close to my own community. When trusted adults use respectable positions to gain access, conceal distorted behavior, or involve other people’s children, the public title can become part of the disguise. A teacher is a position. An officer is a position. A community reputation is an appearance. None of those things automatically prove character. Character is revealed through conduct—especially through what a person does with privacy, authority, trust, and access to vulnerable people. This does not mean every ordinary object is sinister or that every person in a respected profession should be viewed with suspicion. It means context matters. A symbol can remain harmless in one landscape while carrying a painful and corrupted association in another. Symbolic Literacy is not about becoming afraid of everything. It is about recognizing that symbols do not exist outside of lived history, environment, memory, and consequence. So I choose carefully. Especially where children are concerned. I do not need to display every symbol simply because it is common, cute, or socially acceptable. I am allowed to build a visual language that protects the integrity of my work and respects what certain images have come to represent in the world around me. Titles are not character certificates. Uniforms are not character certificates. Respectability is not character evidence. Observe conduct. Observe how power is used. Observe what is hidden behind the public role. Observe who is protected—and who is expected to carry the consequences. Some symbols are not neutral in every landscape. Context matters.

I used to call the 4 of Cups my “couch potato card.” 😆 I related to it deeply. For a long time, I wasn’t really living in the fullest sense. I was existing. Life was happening around me, possibilities were present, meaning was present but I didn’t always feel fully joined to any of it. Now I understand that card differently. What looked like inactivity on the surface was, for me, a deeper experience of separation. And that is one reason I no longer treat symbols as fixed definitions. A symbol can describe a state without defining the person. You can recognize yourself in a card at one stage of life and later realize: That wasn’t who I was. That was where I was. Over time, I moved from simply existing into participating more fully in my own life. Participation gave me experience. Experience gave me something to observe. Observation gave me something to reflect on. Reflection became embodiment. And embodiment changed my relationship to the symbol. The 4 of Cups never disappeared from the deck. I changed. So Symbolic Literacy does not only ask: “What does this symbol mean?” It also asks: “What relationship do I currently have with what this symbol is showing me?” Sometimes a symbol is not a prophecy. Sometimes it is a mirror. And sometimes, years later, the same mirror shows you how far you have moved. 🪞🌀⚜️ Observe → Reflect → Embody.