Down in the turquoise blue I see shapes as I skim across the water like a winged stone. My dragon eyes pick out fossil, skeletal structures in waiting, impatient for flesh to find them. The framework is all given, ready for the making now that it has been glimpsed. For what are we all waiting for but life? And what are we all constructed of, but our inner workings? To be clothed in art, truth and glory, this is our destiny.
And meanwhile, we sit on the seabed, sleeping, on the rock shelf, straining to see beyond the meniscus. We need the mantle to be passed on, a wrapping, ravelling, a new skin, now that we are down to the bare bone.
Keren Dibbens-Wyatt 2015