The egg grows her shell in a curve.

Intuitively ergonomic,

withstanding pressure from out-with to protect the within.

The egg is quiet and never discusses her formation decisions,

her modesty masks it.

In fact, I’ve never watched an egg become-

it just does

and is.

Apples follow suit,

guided by the seasons

or lead toward a star,

their informed instinct.

The distinction between the

inside and out,

strong but intimate,

acts as a protective membrane.

A motherly womb, defending

against adrenaline/oxygen fuelled entropy.

We become the skin and the shell.We teeter.
We hold.

Our muscles frozen in gymnastic tension,

a glistening film to the in and within.






resting on your outstretched arm.

We breathe in, but never out and our density shifts.

Repetition brings form,

as we fill the same space but

our space becomes full.

Our entire neural network is now populated by symbols




filling gaps amongst the mist,

as if ancient rock formations drunk on espresso. ¹

In a pivot from soil,

forced playmates

and pressure

the arrangement is sweetened,

becoming the above.


¹ Hunt me down Maracas, I’m hiding inside your terrain.

Stephanie Mann is an Edinburgh based artist and writer. Her work is currently on show at Glasgow Sculpture Studios, until 5 March 2016.