You’d think introspection is like retreating to your room,
Admiring and rearranging the trophies you’ve gathered, or trying to get rid of messes you’ve accumulated—
A symptom of either self-obsession or personal responsibility (or both).
I find it much stranger than that.
It’s bigger than a room. Bigger than a town.
There are things I didn’t put here,
Not to mention rooms—no—cities that I built long ago.
The pathways were cut (to make shortcuts, I thought) and the worlds have gone on without me.
I still stumble upon destroyed doors to old places that I find as though new.
It’s like exploring an ancient ruin, filled with trapped creatures and lost relics.
Sculptures that swelled from the river, merged together, melted from the bottom up;
Engineered creatures that trap themselves in a cages made of their own architectural exoskeletons;
Beautiful and terrible things;
Things I forget about as soon as I look away.
I could get lost here.
I think parts of me did; I’m still trying to find them.
Dimensions: 20″ x 30″
Materials: Candle wax, sumi ink, and oil pastel on illustration board