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Paper Forest is not poetry. Paper Forest is not prose. It began as a creative outlet for a child. It was simply a way of expressing curiosity, anger, guilt, desire, love and faith. It became a way of dealing with all emotions. At nineteen I stopped writing, and started making music. For ten years, the Paper Forest lay in the dusty bottom of some creased box. It lay there, a frenzy of ideas, emotions, advice, needs and prayers. It was finally time to complete it. Ten years later, I am proud if this achievement. I am genuinely interested in what people feel when they read Paper Forest. And I know the artists will understand. There is a piece called ‘Words; wonderful wizards of wisdom.’ A critic may say that that (J) is alliteration. I say that that is what came to mind at the time. Parts of Paper Forest address a search and a fear. Others are dark and border on the insane. Others are hopeful and pray for a way to ‘distance these rainy days’. Others are conscious of the act of writing and become detached by being aware. The real art is allowing the mind to roam, to fill in the blanks, to try to make sense of every word, to question, to try to understand. If there is one thing to understand it is this: ‘On this quest for objectivity, I become everyone and on this quest for equal truth I am no-one. Therefore, my Paper Forest is free.’ Paper forest can be read in any order and since it is interactive, it is also non-linear.
