her tears feather, her feather tears, girl of my dreams, twigs in her braided, berried hair. those awful fingers infect her body & a half-split moon. miracle mona lisa smile centuries later from different, wolf-like live eyes. girl of my dreams is not her dream.
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You're whole gallery is fantastic. Beautiful renditions, form creativeness, unique style, all the elements of a truly fine artist that doesn't act like a camera, but such use of a very creative mind.
What I find fascinating here is the weaving of so many things or partial things that we'd probably not expect to be woven together. On the one hand that seems to be a microcosmic definition of your work in general; on the other, it'd seem that, were we to speed past light itself (is that the idea of the light streams emanating from the stars?) what else would there be left other than pressing, feeling, finding, and that enigmatic smile of somehow beginning again? Another very interesting piece ...