By Becca Lavin

I am a massage therapist and a, somewhat, mature human consumed with childish glee when surrounded by the 'Arts'. Visual, tactile, messy, human arts. Lover of the written word, the spoken word, the sung word and small visual delights brought into focus or, purposefully, out.

Map of a hand

How many continents have traveled beneath this flesh Been held in reverence or punctured on demand? How many miles of emotions have rolled like oceans and rough seas Or teased to wonder why? How many stories held safe? How many lies of omission never fully crossed the lifelines, Waiting to be thrown or held back…