ABOUT:

Of course there were stories passed down from generations not my own as to how they arrived in my possession. Whispers behind white knuckles and hushed stories were always cut short. In a life past, they danced among lamb skin and hide, their graceful movements seeming to slide across the surface like raw silk over virgin skin. I could only imagine how far they had traveled through strange terrain and how effortlessly they could spring to life, building an arc that no language need bother to cross. They were unifying in their simplicity, bringing eager audiences together through superstition and a yearning for shared religion. How they came to me, its hard to tell. But as new moon dances with Chang'e 嫦娥 in the Northern sky, they spring from their box and perform their unchanged silken dance from so many years ago as they say, "We are changed… never again quite the same, never again quite at ease among the people we once met in that distant land…"