You knew how to hang upside down from the swing until the world looked correct. You knew how to hold a backbend until your spine remembered it was made of something supple and alive. You knew how to lean a book against your knees with your legs up the wall and disappear entirely into it. You knew how to ride with your hair streaming behind you and feel, without question, that you were flying.

​​

You also knew that you were not alone. Not really. There was always someone else there — in the corner of the room, in the space beside you on the barre, curled warm against your back while the music played. Enormous and gentle and entirely yours. Visible only to you, and therefore more real than anything.

 

​​​Between Worlds is a series about the life that exists just on the other side of growing up. Each sculpture captures a moment of pure physical and imaginative freedom — the kind children inhabit without thinking and adults have to work to remember. The figures are caught mid-movement, mid-reverie, mid-joy. Their companions — BatCat, Maurice, Mimo, Mushi, Muff, Mamba, Miguel — are the imaginary friends we all had and gradually stopped mentioning.

​

They didn't leave. We just forgot to look.