I was here too in the time long ago. I was a hand on this wall. I was a voice in the dark. I was a body in a cave. I was a writer of poems in cuneiform, I was Enheduanna, I was a hunter, I was a gatherer, I was a farmer, I was a baker. I was a mother, a father, a sister, a brother. I was a no one and in community. I was here and there was no word for artist because artist was just being, being-with. It was being and speaking.