When Joseph Stowell said ‘Communication is a two-way street’, he was referring to how a christian can always communicate with the heavens but should be more concerned about if their Lord can always get through to them, and certainly not a transgender teen trying to talk with an unsupportive parent.
 However the saying has obviously evolved from its original context to be a general statement about how for a successful conversation, it requires both parties to listen to each other and provide reciprocal information. With this method, communication is negotiated, both people gather and express details and are willing to make changes to exist in harmony; ideally progressing into a mutually satisfactory situation. This is how we are generally taught correspondences should work, theoretically this should be how everyone speaks to one another. It took many years and an autism diagnosis before I was able to properly understand that unfortunately, people are just illogical. Despite preaching on and on about how to communicate, not many people actually are successful at doing it. 

Something I have been trying to express through my most recent art is the frustration that comes with these sorts of relations, the anger and the sadness that comes from hours of fights, hours sobbing, wishing for a meager crumb of affirmation from someone who you know loves you, but won’t use your name. The mind-numbing confusion of repeating yourself again and again, years on end, until you begin to think that maybe you are the insane one after all. How every word you speak feels like nonsense with how it is being received. 

The moon appears to be ever changing, but in the end it’s still whole.