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This is a visual interpretation of a line of a poem i wrote many moons ago. I can no longer watch the news. I just can't. It hurts my soul too much to see all the fighting and misery. All the greed and hypocracy shoots pain through my body and in my condition I just have to bow out and hope it can work itself out. My days are limited and I am not spending one more of them joining into the muck our governments and corporations have created. We will either blow ourselves up, be poisoned by our food or we will learn and grow and change. I am taking my fight to a more personal level and fixing myself. I hope others will follow my lead. I am the white pieces and the black pieces in my game of chess. To fight myself would be silly so I'm changing this game to a party on fabric. I get to choose and you do too.