Tears Smudge The Ink
Stolen Time
Reap Sow
Precious Moments Missed
New Life
Lost Friends, True Friends
From Darkness To Light
Forgotten Victim
Fade Away
Deemed A Devil
Cold Days, Long Nights
Bleed Into My Heart


I see the grid as a metaphor for confinement, whether physical or metaphorical. Imprisonment can take many forms; the simplest being the loss of freedom to choose.

To see ourselves as powerless or driven by instinct we lock ourselves inside our own prisons with invisible doors and walls.

It is down to each of us to unfreeze ourselves, find the key, unlock our doors, to then grow and be happy.

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