seams

2. crafting the cut of the artery river, streaming in high definition white noise,
like a butter knife slipping through the grand canyon.

1. the undercurrent spiral-dances, dividing the waters from the waters, and you, the artist, ask me to ask you about any of your works, giving you a way in, because each, you say, has a genesis.

4. this one, you say, is your favorite. it looks like scribble, like any elephant with a brush could do it, with layers of multicolored verticals and horizontals, thick and thin, like a broken television still-frame, on mute, chaotic and scratchy, thick and thin, and i ask if it has a name, and it begins to look better when you say, time.