An artist’s mind is often swallowed by indigenous thoughts. Trying to balance ones conceptions on a fine thread. Once placed below the natural the mind is left to float freely into the unknown equations waiting to be perfectly skewed into an order not usually placed by the human eye. The farfetched perceptions of logic force an unruly amount of persuasion upon the mind and soul and subconscious. Concepts slowly linger and wrap themselves around the finger of the beholder. Making the owner tremble and shake in pitiful silence; what once was a fantasy story locked up behind the hidden door is out in the open waiting for its prey. Waiting and allowing itself to be caught, taught and tainted. These things are shown to be pieces in a puzzle no one has seen the end too. Offended and stricken when these things are released one knows not of what to do or react or how to speak ones form of tongue. Preludes predict the way of the wand but never know which is which. Guesses and poisons and potions , these are the Ingredience for such a recipe. To explore the realm of society and to overlook the undertaken side of the impossible. To cup once theory in hand and to sculpt it into something new and intriguing, something necessary to the necessities.