Before

Before I knew how to wear my new skin, I was pieces hanging on the workshop wall.

Before I was pieces on the wall, I was drawings in a book.

Before I was drawings in a book, I was free, sailing the air, a part of everything yet able to hover about the edges.  I played in the sky and rustled the leaves of the tallest trees.

Fort Lowell Cottonwoods

Now that I wear this clumsy skin, I bump and and ache.

This realm is so solid and unforgiving.

Author: cellophane10

Writer, Voice Actor and reliable narrator. I'm interested in making and looking at art that is amusing and provocative, that challenges me and transports me and my audience to other realms with new and beautiful ideas and visions. View all posts by cellophane10