Traveling the edge of existence, hunting and gathering all that was forgotten. In eyes built upon illusion and uncertainty it resembled the things left behind. Though the forgotten things I took care in hunting and gathering, had similarities in hue, odor and coarseness to the things which were left. 
 
The voices of what was left behind had an incessant longing to be heard, a Wilhelm Scream that scathed the boundaries of fortitude. Can you hear me? Do you see me? I need to be heard. Don't forget us here, for we can not seek refuge inside of our decaying fortresses of flesh alone, for that we need what we long for to validate our presence. 
 
Not to be confused with the songs of what was forgotten. For these things knew of their own quintessential significance and they do not need the validation of the village before them, or at least what was left of it. They knew that they were ahead of their time and to them time was nothing but a measurement that mortal man or their mortal minds placed upon themselves to contain their infinite measure. Infinite measure, the concepts of no-time proceeded all notions that limited them. They knew that forgotten was merely a label, a label placed by the minds of the village that could not fathom how to place these things. 
 
No designated area for the things we don't know about. 
 
Forgotten, because at some point in the collective unconsciousness, in the dna of the earth whom we call Mother Gaîa we knew that time was mans greatest down fall. 
 
And that the concept of time was better off with the things left behind. 
 
6:47pm, and 23 years onward, to where exactly? The boiling grain of purpose which circulated and penetrated my fibrous core would tell you, onward to purpose.  But from where exactly? I am here to tell you that Time was mans greatest downfall for how can we begin to count the days of our lives when we have no true recollection of when it even began. I, was much before, my birth. And, I was much before, I could say 'I'. 
 
6:52pm now and I am thinking about yesterday. When the sun rises and fall, we account that to being one day and its complete cycle - we've even programmed our bodies into this way of being. It is because of Time and our ignorance of measure, we lose our sense of infinity. Infinite possibilities. 
 
Caramel espresso, a bit of almond milk and 4 minutes later, I think of how I am able to live amongst The Quickening (the disapperance of time/oneness with infinity). I think, that its been  a while since I have been here and even longer since I've walked within the corridors of Paris, counting the beautiful doors that adorned the Parisian structures. I'll be there again soon, I'll rise and fall; landing in the glass box of a smoking section awaiting the arrival of my luggage. Black, I see a pink ribbon that I found in my mothers old 'craft box' on the handle of my borrowed travel bags filled with blood, sweat and tears parading as stone and casted foam, patiently awaiting its arrival from my dream world in Detroit to be back to Paris, the reality from the illusion. 
 
7:03pm to 7:18pm and theres a voice of a black man, and I hear regressions of how america was truly built, but what is time but a controversial conversation. I could hear the contentment he felt from hearing my story of how I taught the children that lived beside my fathers house how to play two-square and my governing of the ball as it journeyed from the pavement to the street. Gold, now that was gold beyond its materiality and manifested in experience. We talked of the 4th dimension using 3 dimensional verbiage, my thoughts were adorned with the notion of how little we truly know. To approach the concept of time we must approach it as if time was non-existent. 
 
What time will you be finished writing? I don't know. What is time anyway, but mans greatest downfall. 
 
As dreamers and non-believers we are taught to not share our dreams with the fear that they would either not come true or that they would come true. I, existing in the realm of inifinity am choosing to appraoch the concept of time by removing time, studying how the great physicists, mathmeticians, philosophers and gurus ruined us by putting us in a box. The way to solve a problem, is not to remove the problem itself but to approach it from a perspective that is above the problem. By placing it in a sort of heiarchy; I am up here and our problem is down there and now we exist on two seperate vibrational and existential fields. Looking at our circumstances on a linear field, limits our viewscape and seership. 
 
I Am multi-dimensional, to see it this way from my third-dimesional placeholder is limiting and the box I am trying to get out of becomes permanent, my escape plan becomes an integral part of my story. A cycle is created and the story of my sweet escape will always be and this is not how you truly escape because One was never contained. 
 
Studying the artful ways of being, I step into a great and divine flow of possibility. 
 
How did you build XENOPHORA? How did you learn silversmithing? How did you manage to adorn the hearts and bodies from both ends of the world? How did you do all this and how did you do it so young? Questions that all have a sort of validity and of quite frequent occurence. Because in this world, we only see what we see and we are taught to not share our dreams because of fear. And this is a porblem that most of us will attempt to approach linearly. 
 
The quickening and by veiwing the world as a non-linear problem. To set oneself above the problem, not only because we are greater than the problem itself but because we are multi-dimensional. For so long, we subscribed to the notion that the earth was flat, soon we will see that we should not be governed by time, just as we saw that the earth was never flat. It was the quickening that gave me strength in holding on to the fact that I can sculpt worlds by alchemically transforming wax into precious metal.
 
7:42 and a cigarette later, I am thinking of my work being a microcosm, a small scale version of my purpose cloaked in a Oud based fragrance that I made not too long ago. 
 
I sculpt the wax by the heat of my hands and with hand tools, the surface contains my fingerprints: I am creating an exact replica or model that will in time become made in a new material. I am setting the tone, the essence of what will be. This is a thought. 
 
I then make a temporary mold of the wax piece, set in place and inspired by the structure of a forests tree. I then melt the wax out, creating a new artform which is a cavity or vessel in which the metal will soon flow: I am using the original temporal model to develop the framework of its existence. This is the thoughts essence and literally its shape. 
 
I molten the silver at 893(ºC ) and watch it flow, I awaken the material and embrace its dance as I pour it into the vessel of where the wax once was: Within this 3 or 4 part proceess, I approach its manifestation. The piece is now in silver and the thought is now manifested in its desired form. 
 
What do we call this, if not alchemy? If not, how worlds are built and thoughts are transmuted into reality and material form. 
 
7:56 and my coffee is cold. The vague echo of the words 'what is mans greatest downfall, if not time' follow and the realization of the many 'wax models' or thoughts that have existed, the many molds made of them and the manifestations the have come about.
 
We are infinite. 
 
So are our possibilities.
 
Time doesn't really exist. 
 
In order to solve a problem, one must exist beyond and above it. 
 
I, like so many of Us, struggle with who I am and who I want to be / where I am in life and where I want to be in life and so on… it is essential that I take great care in shaping the wax model, have the confidence and certainty that once a mold is made of the wax - the wax needs to be melted out. In this time, we will feel empty but the importance in this time is not the material that has filled it but in the framework in which was left behind. We must have the certainty that the emptiness is not emptiness, rather a making of room for something more precious and purposeful to exist within.
 
And then the silver is poured, our thoughts have finally manifested in its full potential. 
 
 
Love, Karissma Yve