The collector

We are part of human civilization as well, and sometimes others don't realize it, as-a-matter-a-fact, sometimes, neither do we. We have all felt, at some point in our lives, utilized. People who use us like puppets, and then put us away in their toy box. We do not realize them hiding behind the large hands above us, swinging our every move to their liking. Those are the people we must be cautious with, a true friend never stands behind, or above you, but ahead of you, to take what ever danger comes before you, ahead to guide you through the worst, and ahead to guide you to the way. Puppets must let them know, that we know who they are, that it is them behind those large hands above us.

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I asked Erick to take this shot, I edited the contrast, and the image looks dirty, as if old? From collecting dust. The picture represents what's going on in a toy box, as the puppet is controlled with an imaginary string. The imagination of the controller. The eyes are empty, and dead-like to represent sadness. The toys represent all the others who have become part of the collector.

I dedicate this to Anette.