Cracking the surface.

In a house carved into rock in ancient times I thought about how the shaping of our identity is not so different from the process of hands chipping away at stone, creating within it a place to call home.

We all begin with an outermost layer shaped by the contexts around us—the shoulds and the shouldn’ts, the cans and the can’ts, the words we’re told we are and are not. As we move through life we chip away at this shell, identify its weakest points and let fall away the parts that don’t hold. What’s to be found beneath is not unlike crystals—the multifaceted pieces of our soul developed under pressure..the unique bits that define us and comprise the gifts we have to share with the world. Chipping away even further we reach our core—the innate and intrinsic components that make us human. If we get this far I think we find that our innermost pieces are not so different from the person next to us..or the person across the word. We are all made of the same materials, just arranged in innumerable different and incredible ways.

I can’t say for certain as I’ve only just cracked the surface, but I’ll keep on chipping away till I find out.

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