Being alive, forgetting the self, taking on foreign forms, painfully living fake lives, waking shockingly to that very fact, addressing the gunk, molding, then completely surrendering the mask, and then returning to the authentic self. From life to death to life again.
Life loses itself to the projected-manifactured-fractured-fabricated illusion of ‘this is me’—The naming of something that it’s not. Life needs no name. Forms have no life.