i like the way she pulls image thru a sieve ... priming the pump on vision until it is naked and unrelenting. it is what it is ... or it is what you see. she leaves windows open but closes doors. there is no escape from reality created by pure energy ... spiritual energy ... energy that rests deep within recesses filled with color reinforced by pride. she won't bend. she won't break. she stills the air by choice and waves goodbye at doubt. not everyone flashes back on their own dreams ... so she collects unattended dreams ... harnesses their spark and fetters that spark to every blinding flash of light. she clears runways and drops imagery from bellicose skies. stars darken at the wink of a third eye ... and as quick as she appeared ... she has gone ... leaving the genius of manipulated perspective swooning in her wake.