We have broken snow globes all over the house. I keep asking myself why we have so many globes of illusion constanly flowing through our lives. They look so lovely, delicately displayed visions of capturing everything good in life and keeping it all safe inside the shinning glass. Problem is it isn't what it seems. One wrong motion and the framer of something beautiful becomes hundreds of sharp pieces capable of causing pain, while the delicate scene is left naked in the real world of unprotected limitlessness.




shake it again and the magic stays inside
the glass bubble, recreating the magic. Over and over-
so safe and predictable.