We all have dreams that we can fly because a part of us knows we’re not just here—we’re everywhere. Our essence is reflected against the looking glass of all that our senses come into contact with; the lush petals of a flower, a spiral of smoke from an extinguished candle, shadows on the ground cast by the sun.
There is a part of all of us that imagines with open eyes, that reaches beyond vision and instinct, that remains composed in the face of mystery. That part lives where you've landed, between your screen and mine. Welcome to Glass Petal Smoke, the end of a burning cigarette, the exhalation of something new…
