i'm interested in how the grotesque can present itself; as fragile as a braid, milk colored & huddling betwixt the tenuous realm of sorrow & the locus of a ghostly epiphany.
- - - - - -
"I am terrified by this dark thing
that sleeps in me;
all day I hear its soft, feathery turnings, its malignity.”
- from elm - sylvia plath
more otherworldly carolein smit sculptures here.