My cube has transformed into a furry Tesseract!
It is so warm and soft, and I just want to rub it and hold it, but no. I have to put it on display and call it Art soon.
Teaser: Here is fragment of a poem that emerged ephemeral out of the Water Thought, best heard when spoken aloud to yourself in an empty room:
O distant droning, ancient turbulence.
Surf tormented triumvirate.
My love is waves away.
Re-stretched on miles of endless asphalt,
with skin so soft and subtle.
At each intersected vertice
a foggy visage of pink aureola.
The wash of current, roaring, crashing,
flowing endlessly past stop signs
and milky wet lips just parted.
I’ve been running into some roadblocks. Some of my contemplative experiences are not so easily translatable into exhibition material. Especially on a tight deadline. Nevertheless I will continue to pursue this crazy train, I have a number of products that may entertain, looking forward to Mondays crit!