"When I was a little boy, I caught a great big butterfly in a church. So I named it Church. Church was very, very big. He had beautiful golden wings that he kept beating inside my hands… I didn’t want anyone to see him, so I shut him up in the old grandfather clock. The butterfly tried to get out every time the clock struck, but I just left him locked up inside. He got older and older in the days and months that passed, but I just stayed a little boy. One day at the beginning of winter, I found Church dead. Did you know that if you pray with a dead butterfly between your hands, you will get whatever you pray for?"
"Transform me. Peel off the graffitied scrap canvas and expose the vulnerable untouchable layer, let me become something unblemished and clean underneath you; brush off my fragile wrappings onto the cold floor and brand your mutable colors into my skin. Hold me tightly for a moment. I don’t want to know better, everyone always knows better and that’s how they forget how to feel."