I was a strange child
I was always fascinated by magic
By witches and warlocks
And some place in side me
I just knew that these powers
Were waiting
Some children invent imaginary
Friends
My sister tells me that I not only invented
Imaginary friends but cities of them
I called my imaginary world
“Devil Land”
It had rulers and people and my friends and family
It was a place of magical powers
A place where dreams came true
A place for a lonely boy to hide
I would turn myself into a bird to get
To this land
The funny thing is later in life
When I began making there sculptures
I would again turn myself into a bird
And there were days
When I could sit on the various perches
Of my work, and see up and down and all around
I could walk my art and make annotations
And inventions secreted inside
Of my intentions
The bird still comes from time to time
Mostly late at night
And then I become that little boy again
Full of hope and dreams
And art
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