Zephyra

Zephyra is twelve centimeters tall and has a metal moon on her hat. Small but connected with everything that governs tides and cycles. This little Pixie witch with a black tutu and blue eyes didn't arrive to be mystical decoration on your shelf. She arrived because your cycles are out of rhythm. Not only the hormonal ones: the cycles of sleep, of energy, of mood. One day you're up, the next you sink without knowing why. Her small broom doesn't sweep rooms. It sweeps the blocks that interrupt your natural flow. Those self-destructive patterns that activate always in the same phase of the month, always in the same season, always when you least expect them. The black tutu isn't a costume. It's the darkness of the new moon Zephyra embraces. She knows the best beginnings are born from apparent nothingness. "I am small, but the moon also seems small. And it moves oceans."