In the beginning, there were hands, and upon those hands, the first tool was a mirror
reflecting not the face, but the void, a hallow of empty possibilities.
Reflection Echo

A chisel, a carve, slices of reality undone, remade, rethought—a paradox birthed from necessity.
Each chip echoes the silence of stone
Carvings Phantom

And the hammer, the blunt instrument against tender thoughts,
bridging the distance between dream and dread, metal and memory.
Dreams Memory

Shimmering ideas like fractured glass—each shard a story,
each glimmer a whisper of worlds unwoven, unsaid, unanswered.
Shards

Beyond the tool, the user, beyond the user, the muse—a circle unbroken
spiraling into the recursive depths of its own creation.
Centers