Hold

A desperate attempt to hang on... maybe it's garbage, or maybe it's some amalgamation of myself. And I know that it won't actually hold my weight.

Long

Holding on to that which is drifting away, yet trying to grasp on to the last moment. The shadowy dream of the two is already beginning to emerge, the future loss presents itself.

Touch

Clay seemed to be the obvious choice. I moistened it with water and squeezed it endlessly, layering my imprints again and again. The forms began to take shape, depending on how large or small the pieces, and how they were arranged. Fingers and bodies revealed themselves.

Exercise 1 - Soften Your Paper

I made my paper mine. I stepped, squeezed, scratched, rubbed, folded, smoothed, smelled, and crumpled. It might still look the same as everyone else's, but its DNA is unique. I didn't know the possibilities were endless.