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Folded, twisted, shaped and created into changeable forms; at times a flapping bird, palpitating it’s way through life; at times an open box, waiting to be closed; perhaps a pretty snowflake dancing in the light; other times a hissing viper ready to bite; occasionally, inspiration forsaken, a crumpled piece of paper screwed up into a ball ready to be thrown into the waste paper bin. My origami playground, a metamorphosed heart of hopes, desires and dreams, what shape shall it be moulded into next? That fickle piece of paper, that wicked hex.