We are echoes of the past and glimpses of the future by the time the in between has passed us by. True silence comes as a gift from the breath of life that occasionally lifts through the veils of our noisy machinery. We are all made of the fine same stuff (Stardust) and we are always in motion: transforming - always. The body is never the same, the mind, the planet, our lovers, our children, our parents, our stories. And yet, somehow there is constant familiarity. The eyes of my father. The nose of my grandmother. A voice like my great uncle. All those echoes of the past transform into something new: me. And I am always changing.
Stories, music, art is no different. Sacred geometry. A rabbit hole. The Men In Grey. An apple in the garden. Upside down walls. They are imprints upon my soul, stories that gave me sunlight, fed my imagination, answered my heart, inspiring my journey to past and future creations. So here I will pay tribute and hope that through this page, others may discover or rediscover these magical works of art.
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