I want to make things.
Beautiful things.

I want to paint the world with starlight and glass,
luster and life.
The crash of an ocean wave soaked in vivid reds and blues.

I want to make things.
Horrible things.

The innocence of evil,
grizzle, blood, and beasts.

The long, grimy fingers of cold, cold fear that close fast around you this very instant.

I want to make things.
Powerful things.

A flash of lightning that turned the tide.
The axe that split the frozen lake.
The hand that grasps yours across the void.

The voice that cries, 'YOU ARE NOT ALONE!'

I want to make things.
Simple, complex things.

Things that make people stop.
And think.
About the things they make.