I’ve written about before. For
some reason I come back. The
deep valley a crook, in contrast
to the hill, which like meat, you can
pick. Or the curve of trees in a
painting, flat and plush at the same
time. Groove instead of crook.
The netting around a bulb to
make its light more ambient.
Netting is what spiders do. Which
brings us back to fabric, its weave,
warp and woof, ribbing. There’s
too much visuality once you
start looking. To be a designer is the
greatest. I play being the maker of
pleasing designs and try to remove
the rest, what I don’t try to have a
hand at. No hand, abdicate.
Muted and muddy, mono
mono mono. Money, money,
money. But now a darker theme
emerges, merging shadows.
Ancient peoples in unison, skin like
plucked chicken, an awful texture—
bulbs where feathers rooted
now bared.