When you showed up was I aware of your coming or did you slide slowly onto my face as lichen attaches to shale living out it's life near a stream?
Does your crust build up until all that is me becomes flat and featureless? Or are you so thinly layed down that the slightest breeze produces puffs of me floating on air? Perhaps our husks wax and wane according to circumstance?
Today I honor this mask of mine however it came into being. It is born of me. It is a real appendage. It is made in my image and faces forward out into the world.
Whether I chose this mask or it just happened upon me, now that I am conscious of it's being I can use it how I like when I like and where I like. For it is part of who I am...and who I am not.
What purpose does your mask serve?
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