The trajectory of a skimming stone, or skipping stone, is one of great joy. When it leaves your hands and already you just know it’s going to fly and skitter across the surface of a body of water as if it were magic itself. As if the whole world and your whole life were magic and you forgot but you only just remembered. The stone dances and kisses the surface of the water, and the sky reflected. And then it snags on some ripple or falters and falls into the water in a melancholic sigh, often swiftly followed, by a desire to do it all again - but better.

Some of these works fly up (or down?) and other fly across as if describing the life of a soul on Earth.