Find me hidden on the underside of a leaf, camouflaged in leaf litter on the ground, or tucked safely at the base of a tree trunk, concealed in a crevice.

For a little while, this self-spun silky encase keeps me warm and safe from the conditions of the outside world. An insulation that amplifies what is woven into the convolutions of my double helix—instructions for a metamorphosis.

Last November, I found a place where the insistent humming of people and whirring of machines are diluted by the sound of steady water falling.

A tranquilizing white noise that drowns out the turbulent whitewaters trapped in my body.

Self-portrait from a creepy dream, started back in February.

There were II of me—me standing behind me, staring at myselves unwaveringly in the bathroom mirror of the home I grew up in. I’m watching this figure that I know is me in form but I have no idea who it is or what it wants with me.