We all have them. We all make them.
Fairytales, dreams, history, herstory, instastories…
At yet another point of transition- as summer draws to a close and fall waits to descend in the northern hemisphere- I look back at the stories I have collected; I look back at all of the events that have transpired to bring me where I am in this very moment. These cycles let me rediscover tales of my childhood, those of my parents, their parents, and theirs before them. I revisit the stories of my teachers and attempt to trace them back to where they came from: a never ending journey into time immortal.