The little people that come alive in my brain when I bury my head in creative tasks made an exit one day when ethereal hands from the netherworld summoned by a secret will forced my own flesh-gloves to switch my smart phone's mic on. Involuntarily my mouth began spewing forth words and sounds in a bizarre, amphibious, quasi-vocal fry, hypogean gist.

Subsequent analysis of this unanticipated exhibition leads me to believe that these pocket-sized voices from the void who are like characters from some alternate moviescape wanted to find their way out of the cellar and into the open air where daylight would reveal the buried secrets they were eager to tell. 

This impromptu medium has become a vehicle of exploration into my subconsciousness and of self discovery. Allowing my inner demons to have their day in the sun has been revelatory and therapeutic, after all they're just children who want to come out and play.