Lacrimosa​

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Trapped behind lattice. Eyes downcast in the dark. Tears falling, unseen. Mouth sealed shut.

I watched. I kept watching. All of it.

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Pressed into the shape of correctness. Caged inside the need to belong.

I wanted to rise. For so long, I wanted to rise.

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This was the first work I made at fifty-three, created alongside Departing Snail, at the moment of beginning again.I could not have made anything else. 

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The front face glows. The outside remains in shadow. But on that shadowed side, one eye watches you. Quietly. Unblinking.

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You know this, don't you?

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