I've regarded it often over many years because it hangs next to the front door of one of my family's homes.
Below, view more hastily wrought, improvised, impromptu "works" of art-play. The folks rescued collages and masks I created within creative moments and enthused bursts, intending to destroy them soon after I had satisfied the sudden urges to play with glue and markers that overtook me amid some of the whiles of distressing stress I lived and learned through over 20 years ago.
Thus has this familiar foyer become a museum, preserving the fading pieces (or mausoleum, preserving merely the ashes) of those trance-induced, self-helpful recreational sessions.
So I record and publish the weird irony of this already drawn-out experience here now, perpetuating its amusing, ongoing goofiness for electronic-posterity and wondering FUN.