I found a dragonfly
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I was walking outside and the wind was blowing when suddenly I noticed the plants were talking to me. It was at this moment that the vines realised I could understand what they were saying and they were like…
I read it on the grape vine
Someone took the scissors from the print room at work.
Someone left a passive-aggressive note to ask for their return.
Someone returned the scissors and created a metaphysical dilemma.
Where are the scissors?
Have they ever moved?
Where am I?
What is this place?
How can we be sure what we are seeing is real?
What is my relationship to something I perceive?
Do I create the scissors or do the scissors create me?
Why am I shaking?
