Top Tips for Masking Fluid Magic with Watercolors

I LOVE using masking fluid. Once it’s dry it can be peeled off, revealing the untouched white paper underneath. It’s a bit like magic!

I first encountered this medium during my college days and since then have had a great relationship with it. I’ve just launched a Skillshare class on using this medium, which includes more in-depth tips and fun projects. 

When I started filling a little moleskine sketchbook with masking fluid experiments, I got a deluge of comments and questions asking what my secrets were, as many just couldn't get their masking fluid to behave. Their paper was often torn when removing it or their colors smudged. Many ruined brushes. So it’s no surprise some give up after a few attempts. Before you abandon masking fluid entirely, here are some answers to frequently asked questions and some top tips for success with masking fluid.

What Is Masking Fluid Used For?

Sometimes called frisket or drawing gum, it’s basically a latex or rubber-based medium that can be applied to dry watercolor paper before you paint on it. The masking fluid will adhere to the paper, and once it is dry it can be painted over in watercolor or ink. When the whole painting is dry, the latex film can be carefully peeled off, leaving the white surface of the paper untouched.

How Do You Apply Masking Fluid?

It's most common to use an old or cheap brush to apply masking fluid. However, I use a variety of tools to apply the masking fluid to the paper, dependending on the effects that I want to achieve. Sometimes I allow masking fluid to build up on what I call a ‘grotty brush’ or ‘busted’ brush—that's when I leave the masking fluid to harden and use it like that to create some unique lines.

Some other applicators you might like to try are:

  • Dip pen

  • Q-tips 

  • Cocktail sticks 

  • Toothbrush 

  • Twigs 

How Do You Clean Masking Fluid from Paint Brushes?

To preserve the bristles, even on cheap brushes, it's advisable to wet them and then coat them with some soap or liquid detergent before you dip the brush into the fluid. This will protect the bristles and make the brush much easier to clean off by placing it under running water as soon as you’ve finished.

I sometimes use a dip pen for fine line application of masking fluid, and again you can either wash the nib under running water or if it dries onto the nib simply peel it off (which is quite satisfying, I find).

How Do You Remove Masking Fluid from Watercolor Paper?

Removing the masking fluid is my favorite part—it's like magic, the big reveal, when you pull it all off and see what's occurred.

There are several methods you might like to try and see which suits you best.

Fingers

Start by rubbing gently at one of the edges until it starts to lift. Once it starts to come away, gently and carefully pull it off. 

Eraser

This is a popular method, however I’d recommend an eraser that's a neutral color rather than red or blue as you will also have to deal with leaving coloured eraser dust on your art.

Masking Fluid Remover Block

This is a new art supply that I’ve tried recently. It helps prevent you from pulling too hard and tearing your paper, and it doesn't leave crumbs behind like typical erasers.

 

Why Does Masking Fluid Tear My Paper?

There are a few reasons why this can occur. The most common mistake is not waiting until the watercolor paint is fully dry (after applying the masking fluid) and peeling off the mask too soon. Don't just hope it's dry—you have to be totally certain. Be patient!

Also, handmade papers or other softer papers are more prone to tearing. While very rough papers may be tricky as texture of bumps and crevices provides extra surface for the mask to grab onto, making it hard to remove without causing the paper to tear.

My Tips For Using Masking Fluid

  • Don't use too much—the masking fluid should be pretty flat, thin and smooth on the paper (when applied with a brush). Try not to apply it too clumpy, blobby or thick.

  • I’ve learnt the hard way NOT to use a hot hair dryer on your painting if it has masking fluid on it, as it’ll adhere to the paper even more making it trickier to remove.

  • ALWAYS test your masking fluid on a small piece of the paper you intend to use before committing to actual painting. 

  • Don’t allow masking fluid to stay on your paper for more than two days, as again it will be harder to remove and could tear the paper.

Don't forget to check out my NEW Skillshare class on masking fluid for a fun deep dive 

There are 10 demos, starting with some warm ups that will build up your practical knowledge and patience. Followed by some really fun projects covering florals, patterns, landscapes and food.  

If you are new to using masking fluid, unsuccessfully tried it in the past or seeking to find fun ways of incorporating it into your watercolor practice then this class will provide many effective tips. Think beyond the brush to achieve an array of different textures and effects using masking fluid. 

You will consider:

  • which papers work best

  • the different drying stages we have to be mindful of

  • successful removal of masking fluid after it’s dried

Why I'm Taking A Semi Sabbatical

Starting in July, I'm going to be taking what I'm calling a 'semi sabbatical,’ when I will not be taking on any client work. I will finish a Skillshare class that I postponed from this spring and do enough to keep my business ticking along quietly. This semi sabbatical will last until the end of this year and will likely involve a small loss in income as a result. I have factored in this aspect, but will have enough passive income to tide me over. 

Artist painting in sketchbook with watercolors

Photography by Nat Aubry

I made this post because so many of us feel bombarded by idealized representations of others' lives on social media, and it's important to me to not be part of that. My aim has always been to be honest and transparent about what it's really like for me as a working artist. It has involved an incredible amount of hard work, silly hours, and sheer bloody-minded persistence when tackling tasks I’m not keen on. And repeating that over and over.  

Make no mistake, I’m tired—really bone-ache, brain-ache tired. There's a tiredness that no amount of sleep or rest seems to fix. I’ve been on the go for the last nine years, hustling and building an art business with few boundaries in place. I’ve gone through a divorce, become a single parent, and both my kids have now entered their teens. I’ve shared so much and spread myself quite thin for a while. The pandemic overloaded my responsibilities and inflamed my already irritable emotions. I’d like to get off the merry-go-round now, because I’m not prepared to go through another decade where overwhelm comes knocking every few months. 

Don't get me wrong: the route I took and decisions I made have landed me with a highly successful and profitable business, and a strong brand to boot. But the path I’ve been on is highly unsustainable and comes at a cost to my mental and physical health. I’m a bit overweight through comfort eating, my sleep cycle is not the best, and I dealt with bronchitis and Covid last fall. 


Giving myself a leave of absence has been on the agenda since last summer. After crying my eyes out in front of my daughter at a luxury hotel car park because a client emailed to say I’d set up an artwork wrong (she was looking at the wrong dimensions), I vowed to give myself a long break. 

Long walks, daily journaling, and taking weekends off are no longer enough. After shouldering many responsibilities for so long, my creative cup is depleted. As I see it, any creative activity requires energy. I can expend only so much energy before I’ll eventually run out. I must stop running before I hit the wall.

To begin with, I’ll be taking a step away from social media for extended periods over the course of this year. I’ve already done this a few times, as it's been very beneficial. The time I gain from diverting my attention from Instagram will be spent on learning from other artists, taking courses on watercolor painting, urban sketching, and gouache. I’ve also enrolled in a ceramics class. 


I’m now at a place where I understand that my business will not collapse if I don't show up every day. In the past I was conditioned by anxiety, but now I’m more inclined to make decisions based on intuition rather than fear. My gut feeling has been saying I need to pay attention to all the red flags telling me that constant productivity isn’t the right path at this stage.


We can optimize our days or prioritize some choices over others, but we cannot create more time or replace the time spent on activities which add little value to our life. Our attention is a valuable resource. So I need to be mindful of what I choose to focus on and what I decide to ignore. 

Artist holding watercolor sketchbook

Photography by Nat Aubry

Right now my focus is on becoming a whole artist, reflecting my core value of supporting my creativity—and not sitting hunched over Google docs for days on end! I pledge that this time, my relationship with time off will not be riddled with guilt. As a single parent, I aim to stay healthy to guide my children for another decade. This sabbatical is not a stop-gap measure, but part of what I hope will be lasting life changes to reduce stress and change my relationship with self-worth and productivity.

Towards the end of 2022 I will be better placed to assess the impact of my semi sabbatical, and it might even extend beyond that. I’m excited by all the possibilities to carry on exploring under my own steam.

Organic Expressive Florals : Spring 2020

My 21st sketchbook which I dedicated specially to wild flowers, allowing me to explore ways of adding more depth and textural interest in my botanicals. I filled this sketchbook during the Covid lockdown of Spring 2020, when I would take long (socially distanced) walks with my daughter in the spring sunshine. We noted all the blooms that were coming into season, as part of her home learning. The daily outings awakened my curiosity and compelled me to start chronicling the wildflowers we saw. In some ways it was a reaction to the lockdown we were under, using what freedom of movement we had to explore. Oftentimes in the past I had retreated to the safety of my sketchbook despite personal circumstances. 

Quite unexpected one sunny day I decided to pull out a dandelion in my garden, roots and all and paint the entire thing. I’d never painted a dandelion when it was at the flowering stage. Or paid much attention to the distinctive leaves and had certainly never painted a root in any sketch. I thought what an interesting way to fill up a new sketchbook, by documenting the hedgerow flowers or weeds I spotted in my daily walks. 

Other reasons I especially enjoyed filling this special sketchbook were :

  • painting the flower several times over gave me a much deeper understanding and appreciation of its unique attributes...this is something I commonly do but my observational skills were even more heightened. 

  • I could incorporate and further explore the textures or blooming that occur under certain conditions which is one of my joys when working in watercolour. 

  • I turned the sketchbook portrait so both pages and give me an opportunity to play with the vastly elongated area - something I’ve never done before.

My florals have appeared on cards, wrapping paper, gift bags,and fabric. My preferred way of working is relaxed exploration of expressive florals laid down in watercolor with essential inky details on top.

Many folks have wondered how I seemingly achieve effortless watercolor florals which stay vibrant and fresh, rather than too overworked. But how do I go about doing this?

I created a very informative Skillshare class, where I shared insights and best practices for producing expressive Watercolors, including clearing the headspace for our flowering florals. By using playful exercises, we can shift our attention from the need to portray accurate depictions and instead simplifying it down to capture the essence of your flower. 

As a recovering perfectionist, creating artworks in watercolor and ink appeals to my personal taste and capabilities as it allows me to have the balance between the carefree side of me and the need for a few details. The guiding principles I present, like shape, value and color mixing tips can be applied easily to any subject matter you decide to paint and still achieve the same spontaneous results. 

Big brushes and vibrant colors can take center stage in this approach, along with bolder contrast and descriptive lines. In my Organic Expressive Florals class there are three full length demonstrations in which I take you through my entire process. Whether you're just starting out with watercolors or are well-versed in this medium, I will present a really unique and intuitive way of working that will produce enchanting wildflower depictions.

Artwork Auction & Collaboration With United World Schools

If you don't know part of my early history, I emigrated from Burma with my family when I was 5.   I can only imagine it was a tough decision as we left almost all of our family behind, the many aunts, cousins and both sets of grandparents.  But we also left behind a ruling dictatorship which couldn't understand the harsh economic realities for normal people, with little investment in healthcare or education (instead spending most of their revenue on arming the military) If my father hadn’t made that decision all those years ago my life would be very different. 

I’m on the far left with my Dad

I’m on the far left with my Dad

One of my first Skillshare classes I created was around creative goals and if you have watched my recent Skillshare class, Transition Into Illustration: Breaking into the Industry, you will know that I am a firm believer in having a vision of how I wanted my illustration career to look like in order to shape it. Way back in 2012 even before I picked up a brush or pen, I created a goals book of how I wanted my ideal life, with a thriving illustration business, including the types of clients I’d attract.

Coming from a disadvantaged background, I knew I wanted to work with charities in order to help others less fortunate than myself. I’m incredibly lucky and privileged to have had access to good health care and education as an immigrant to the UK. If I had stayed in Burma I would not have had such opportunities or security. Over the years I have supported many charities to help with sanitation, the fight against malaria, and bringing clean water to remote communities. From my position today I wish for all children to have enough to eat, an education and their own hopes and goals for the future which is not blighted by poverty.

United World Schools 1.jpg

This month I am delighted to be teaming up with United World Schools (UWS) to help the world's most remote and marginalised regions to give every child access to free education. They partner with local communities in Burma, Nepal and Cambodia, to equip and resource primary schools. United World Schools aims to break the cycle of illiteracy in one generation across Asia, empowering children to realise their full potential and build a better future - for them and their families. 

I first met a team from UWS at a charity fundraising event for Burma and I was immediately taken by their commitment to bring education to remote communities including those in Burma. I talked to them about a slip of paper I’d placed in my ‘magic jam jar’ early this year, with my wish to work with children's charities (I will talk about this ‘magic jam jar’ in another blog post).

Burma_Fundraiser.jpg

I’m honoured to join other amazing illustrators such as Axel Scheffler, Jackie Morris, Emily Gravett, Debi Gliori and more to take part in UWS Happily Ever Smarter Secret Sale, by sharing an illustration based on a real life story of one of the incredible children they are working to support, high in the Himalayas in Nepal.  

This is the piece I created based on a 11 year old girl called Soneeya who wishes she didn't have to carry heavy loads of grass every morning and would love to be at school instead of looking after the cattle all day in the forest. She deserves a chance to become a teacher and help her village when she’s older.

The auction is running until 29th July, and tickets cost £250. Each ticket holder will be in with the chance of winning an original artwork by one of eight treasured illustrators, including the work that I have made. Runners-up will also be in with the chance of winning an original drawing from a UWS school student in Nepal, illustrating their ‘dreams for the future’. Each £250 ticket is a donation to UWS, and will be doubled by the UK Government as part of the Happily Ever Smarter UK Aid Match appeal that UWS are running until 29th July.

The price of each ticket can fund the training of one community teacher, who could go on to transform children’s lives and give them the chance to achieve their dreams. 

Visit the UWS website to buy your ticket and see the artworks

For me, or my children or Soneeya, goals even in their simplest form can provide us with a strong motivation that can keep you going for months and years, and can be transformative.


Silver Lining Sketchbooks - the positives of painting with pneumonia

It’s difficult to articulate the extreme fear (justified and unjustified) I felt during the painfully slow divorce process and subsequent health issues. Even so, there was little evidence of this in my sketchbooks, which continued to be my refuge and safe haven during this ongoing crisis.

Once my ex moved out, I was given one month’s grace from the mortgage repayments looming over me. I had a small but steady income from stock illustrations and erratic freelance work, but I had no idea how long these sources of income would last. I was beset with persistent financial burdens, which triggered a very heightened fight or flight response, eventually taking its toll on my health. Some days I was shaky and tearful; some days it seemed my heart was pounding uncontrollably through excess anxiety. Generally I was exhausted and felt at the mercy of events, barely able to keep my head above water. I was the sole provider of financial security for my children, and I felt overwhelmed by the weight of this responsibility. Day in, day out, I was on ‘high alert’ and feeling, at one end of the scale, anger, and at the other, low self-worth.

Towards the end of 2015, I developed a cough and cold that I was unable to shift, because I never gave myself permission to rest. I was still able to fulfil my requirements for my then-agent, building collections around Christmas themes and pretty florals in order to build my portfolio for the Surtex licensing show in May, 2016. I felt that if I didn’t keep my foot on the pedal, constantly churning out art to attract more clients, my financial situation could be critical. I now see I was trying desperately to control outcomes based on a fear mindset.

4x pages.jpg

Quite soon after the new year of 2016, there was a sharp decline in my health, which I can now see affected the style and the mediums I started using. My Instagram posts of this time only allude to having a ‘stinking cold’. By early January, 2016, I felt so awful I decided to seek the help of my GP, who ordered an immediate x-ray. It confirmed her suspicions: I had pneumonia, with fluid in both my lungs. She recommended immediate and extended bed rest for at least a fortnight if not more. Unfortunately, I ignored her advice because I was utterly fixated on preparing for the Surtex show and the financial rewards I thought it would bring. This just exacerbated my illness and slowed my recovery.

blue leaves.jpg


I carried on with my sketchbook practice as a way to escape all the different strands and levels of trauma I was experiencing. I found a way to paint within my limits. Typical sketches from this period were basic watercolours with line work applied afterwards, as most of these examples show. The truth of the matter was that I simply could not stay lucid for long enough to concentrate for more than 10 minutes at a time. I would paint quickly, go and have a rest, and then come back again several hours later with some quick pen work. I was only able to complete a page when I had a few moments of clarity and strength.

pomegranates.jpg

My two sketchbooks from that time are a reflection of my decreased energy, even though at the time I saw each page as a respite from my laboured breathing and general unease with the situation I found myself in. The flip side of my illness was that I had to summon my inventiveness and problem solving whilst I recuperated. Within the boundaries of my sketchbook, I could still be a creative version of me despite the medication. It may have been partly because I had committed to my first 365 days of paint, which gave me a huge incentive to carry on. It meant I had to be resourceful, imaginative and ingenious in how I could spend my very limited time.

lemon pineapple.jpg

Although I was very slow to recover from the pneumonia, by mid-March, 2016, I generally felt much better. Looking back, it occurs to me that those little black books had fast become part of my ‘safe room,’ which I protected at all costs. I could control what happened within them more than what was happening elsewhere in my life. They anchored me and stopped me from falling into helplessness. I wasn’t creating from a fear or lack mentality within the black covers of those moleskines. They were undeniably my sanctuary, where I felt almost immune to external forces. 




Silver Linings Sketchbooks - Painting with my Daughter #fiveyearoldpaints

My daughter had just turned five when she started witnessing my sketchbook practice. During the spring of 2015, just as I started painting one afternoon, she unexpectedly asked to borrow one of my waterbrushes and a sheet of paper and proceeded to sketch a very pretty imaginary flower. By the summer she had convinced me to buy her a little watercolour moleskine and her own paints and brushes. Some of the most enduring memories of keeping sketchbooks over the last four years were the days my daughter and I would paint side by side. (I’ll refer to her here as M.)

4x fruit flower.jpg

Often I would save my sketch practice till my daughter was home from school. M would assess whether she found the subject I picked up that day interesting enough for her. The fruit and flowers were more appealing to her than the packaging or book covers that I sometimes chose. If she decided to join me, M would go gather her own watercolour supplies from her special drawer, and we’d paint together in matching moleskines. At the time we had a circular coffee table in our living room, which we placed in front of our open patio doors on sunny days. M had a little wooden chair that she could sit on, while I would be cross-legged on the carpet. I gave her very little instruction—she just went ahead and drew her outlines, then painted how she wanted. Sometimes she’d ask how to mix a particular colour, but most often we’d just work with companionable chatter, catching up with her day’s events at school.

passion flower.jpg

What I love about these pieces is her candid and impartial approach. Being five years of age, she didn’t seem too concerned how her page turned out. There was no overthinking or overworking (which I was apt to do). She seemed to have a remarkable ability to simplify the object down so it was still recognisable, yet retain a freshness that some of my sketches lacked. It was interesting to see her carefree attitude. I learnt many lessons about loosening up my sketches and making decisions quickly rather than laboriously. She was not constrained by proportions, shading, or mixing exact shades. Being unhindered, at least in my eyes, M was able to paint from a place of pure joy that was delightful to see.

cactus.jpg

Almost immediately in the period after I asked for a divorce, M took the lead in deciding what we would paint. There followed a period when we embraced a very geometric route. Straight lines were and still are out of my comfort zone, but I was quite willing to show support for her ideas. M was in her element, and she seemed to enjoy the simple forms as seen previously in her flowers and fruit. However you can see the hesitancy and doubt in my sketches from this period. Sometimes they only covered half a page and were incredibly tight. I was still learning from my daughter, who seemed so at ease and instinctive with this outlook.

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M’s father frowned upon our joint watercolour practice. We viewed the time I spent painting with our daughter from completely opposing viewpoints. I was supremely proud and impressed by her sketches, and I wanted to share her glorious little pieces. I felt it made M very content to see her work next to mine on the IG grid, knowing that her page was of the same value and interest for anyone viewing. I even made up a personal hashtag for her sketches: #fiveyearoldpaints  However, her father felt that posting our daughter’s art on Instagram was contemptible and a cheap ploy to attract more ‘likes’ (I had about 3000 followers at the time). Although he became increasingly vocal about his feelings, we carried on regardless. 

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During this time I avoided being in the same room as my ex and had taken to sleeping on cushions on the floor of the office. He was very slow in making arrangements for finding alternative accommodation, which frustrated me. Telling both my children about the divorce was actually much easier in many ways than expected. Both seemed to instinctively know why their parents had to part ways.

Those simple and honest afternoons spent with our sketchbooks in the sun will stay with me forever. At a time when I knew my marriage was floundering, it was a truly bright spot and often the highlight of my day. The simple act we shared transcended all the lousy feelings that were flying around in other parts of my life at the time. Even looking at the sketches now, I am filled with tenderness for her and her capabilities. M’s three sketchbooks are kept in the same special drawer as my other smaller moleskins because they are so valuable to me. Memories from these experiences with my daughter, as fleeting as they were, delivered lasting happiness during that excruciating period. 












Silver Linings Sketchbook in France

I have had to dig really deep in order to explore the events that primarily took place whilst I was completing sketchbook no. 2. It was not easy to give myself permission to do this, as I’ve had to extract myself from behind a curtain of shame that surrounds the breakdown of my marriage in 2015.

flowers strips 4.jpg


The typical subject matter I’d been sketching at this point was items I had easy access to, including book covers, packaging or just seasonal flowers and fruit. I had a natural curiosity that outweighed any thoughts of trying to capture the object perfectly. My sketchbook was neutral territory, where my inner dialogue was much quieter compared to the rest of my creative business. I could hear my answer when I asked myself ‘what can I learn from this?’ For me, imperfect sketches could still be useful or important. It was encouraging for me to work this way, as each sketch brought about fresh awareness and the opportunity to absorb watercolour outcomes.

packaging strips 4.jpg

In the spring of 2015, I had consented to attend a few sessions of marriage counselling to appease my then-husband. The counsellor hoped that a prearranged family holiday could help resolve our differences. That August we made the long journey to Southern France by rail. After an overnight stop in Marseille, we arrived at our base just outside the small coastal town of Cassis. The day after we arrived, on a very hot trek to Calanque de Port Pin I realised my marriage was irreparable. After a ridiculous argument over apricots and drinking water I could hear all the metaphorical pennies dropping, drowning out the noise of my young children happily paddling. When we arrived at the stunning calanque with its rocky sides and extraordinary blue sea, I sat in a much-needed shady spot to paint whilst my daughter napped. That evening, without much fanfare or too much introspection, I asked for a separation. 

calanque.jpg

We did not tell the kids about this significant development and pretty much carried on with our holiday as planned. In the sketchbook pages that follow I carried on as usual, too, with my routine of sketching whatever I had close at hand or what I saw around me; the harbour with its bobbing fishing boats or the view from our balcony where we ate.

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I posted on IG sketches of local flowers including the endless oleander. And later on, views of Avignon, the Roman amphitheatre at Orange, and the nearby Pont Du Gard. These sketches are quite emotive souvenirs of that complex time. This sketchbook also displays my gratitude for the beautiful surroundings I saw around me, the silver linings in an otherwise poignant chapter.  


S France 3.jpg

Even when I returned home, there were comforting household items, seasonal fruit and flowers that gave me something to focus on. When I focused, a soothing energy flowed over me as I painted. I only felt relief and release when I opened my sketchbook. Continuing within my sketchbooks as if everything were normal helped me through the intense isolation I was beginning to feel. I tolerated his presence in the family home for the sake of my children, who were still unaware of their parents estrangement. I worked hard at holding it together, and not saying as I felt in front of them, as the arguments accelerated.

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Towards the beginning of sketchbook no. 3, I suddenly stopped using the pen line that I’d adopted early on. One evening, I was in a rush to attend a dinner party and with the light fading I wanted to capture these poppy heads quickly. I also felt the pen line had become a ‘crutch’ of sorts—it had only been there to support the watercolours, while I found my confidence with the medium. 

It is perhaps ironic as well as symbolic that just two pages later, I painted a little propellor aeroplane darting amongst whimsical and geometric clouds. I asked for a full divorce that day. The words came out of the blue, and I caught myself off guard with my certainty as I delivered my firm demand. In that moment I did not think about my children or my lack of finances, or having no apparent plan. I just knew I would suffocate and never fulfill my dreams or potential if I stayed married. I asked him to move out immediately, which he was reluctant to do.

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When I look back on the page, it occurs to me that I was now learning to paint ‘freestyle.’ These clouds were purely from my imagination. Maybe that little aeroplane dodging the clouds was off on an unknown adventure, trying to break free from the confines of the page and sketchbook. I was finally allowing myself to explore with a more free and fluid approach, less grounded in reality. Although I was still suppressing many of my thoughts and feelings in my daily life, this page shows that within that small sketchbook I was making a safe space to express myself. I honoured this peace within the pain, and from this awareness I could see choices. 

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