In a dark universe behind my eyes, images, voices, sensations exist in a void without substance.  They float, drift and teem along invisible currents.  Absorbed in less than a speck of dust, these traces of selves become strewn, reaching into objects, places and imaginations. 

Never once me, they inhabit all matter of existence.  Evident in everything that has been touched, everything with which they have been joined.  Telling, revealing, seething, these constellations of formless, fleeting illusions tend to me, mend me, change me, gnaw at me, disturb and destroy me. 

Illusions of Self  explores the nature of the inhabited spaces and objects remaining in my mother’s house after she passed away.