Being happy is in small things... I remember me as a little girl, recovering from a flu, on my bed made on the sofa. My mom gave me a sketch book, magazines, scissors and glue. Days of fun for me.
Don't ask me what or why. For I don't now the answer.
Maybe it's a kind of invocation of a photo shop shiny happy world.
A shrine for a superfluous glamour Goddess.
The creative process of making art is asking questions, not giving answers.
May we never stop wondering.
Love, Elisa Scissorhand