About This Artwork: Sometimes I think of my heart like a rock. Sometimes it is transparent. Sometimes solid. At times, they are split into fragments. And at all time they try to cross a threshold.

ON the otherside is comfort, like a place where pillows lay and the smell of fresh candy is baking in the air. My great grandmother is there and she is ready to squeeze me so hard I won't be able to breathe anymore, but I won't need to breathe in this place. It's not a place where you need to think about your breath.