She is Miss Joy. She loves things that don’t make sense. She loves to create. She loves to put impossible things create together. She loves spinning. She loves to do what she wants. She loves to be flexible. She loves to dance, She loves to go wild. She loves nature. She has trouble with money, society, words, and people. In the direction where she wants to go, seems to be none of those.
She was blown away by the truth of the meteorite hitting her belly button. It made her laugh at everything that is. Her arms are made of bushes and chicken legs. She can and can’t do everything. She is growing golden beans in her secret garden. Her eyes are gone by light.
She is holding a bit too much to light in a way that is not working, She is holding because she didn’t want to be here. So the light was her escape solution. And also she fears judgment. And some other things… more about that later…