Behold – for you are looking at the end of a story that also holds a painful, yet beautiful secret. A story that was once lived, once kept in shame, and now revealed to the public in visual form. This is a story of “ The Birth of the Peek-a-boo Teardrop.” A teardrop that reflects the distortion of the vision of a girl I once knew very well and now want to forget.
I call this girl Gypsy, a name not by choice but because of cursed faith. A faith she resisted at first but later learned to embrace. She is not like the common gypsy that we all think – not a swindler, a cheat, nor a fraud. But yes, a Gypsy who is unheard, misplaced, misunderstood, without any form of belonging and inflamed with rejection. She speaks in a language of metaphor and drapes herself in vibrant colors and fancies, to distract us from the truth that is very much apparent. She is a great chameleon, a pretender in disguise to protect a dark side that is twisted, but yet frail. And thus, “The Gypsy Series” begins as I have be
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