Steph Pumpa
Of many
Look me in the eye, who do you see? One woman or a hundred different people placed upon each other.
Look through me, who do you see? The mother, the noisy child, the loved, the lover. The daughter, the broken one, the quiet as a mouse, a little too much, that outspoken one.
The kaleidoscope of the lives I have lived and the people I have been. The coloured broken glass of a thousand people placed upon each other.
Am I one? I am of many.