In my mental images I remember the feeling of perplex ion at the movements of the adults around me. I spent many a days and nights drawing reading and dreaming, juggling images in my head while the senses took over to etherealise the images in an internal realm.The resilience of childhood is the shaping stone of ourselves. The memory of our ancestors are marked upon our being, unseen manifesting ethereally within your gestures. The illusion of innocence in a child is marked by these strokes and gestures of our parental lines, and while these marks grow deeper innocence leaves us perplexed as to what we keep and what shall we throw away. I spent many afternoons dreaming just like this.
