I'm realizing as I think about projects, and by proxy myself, I'm a person that functions on two things. Patterns and Colors. When I drive, I don't look at street signs, I drive by memory. Patterns control my motions. I stop here, I turn there, I go faster here, and I slow down here. When something alerts me that a pattern has changed, that when I react. And abnormality to my rituals has entered the equation, and as patheticly wanng-poetic as it might sound, these little events are cathartic. Most of these are colors. A Red light, a Green light, those orange cones around the bend, the blue and red flashing beams that blind me through the tree