One of my earliest curiosities involved an Easter Bunny and a Polaroid as document of the moment. It shows me seated (or rather sunken) on the lap of an enormous white and pink bunny, my pink pants and shirt perfectly blending with the plush belly. When the bunny spoke, his voice was muffled; so I peered into the dark static hole of his mouth and discovered a small round head seemingly floating inside the hollow space. How did he get in there? And he was real, I could smell his sweat.
Behind the scenes, beyond sight of the viewer, a back-stage enigma silently conducts like a puppet-master, pulling strings, compelling front-stage action.