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May 2017


The weight of no self
5.1.2017


I saw myself as his assassin for his own good and in twenty minutes I had so impugned his character that he was forced to leave the room.
5.2.2017


Global repercussion
5.3.2017


Spring day point to point practice
5.4.2017


5.5.2017


The spaces all around us
5.6.2017


5.7.2017


Open cycle? Cycle taking the form of a vessel? Does this drawing signal consolidation or new territories?
5.8.2017


Larval stage of the cycle, the incubator of thoughts.
5.9.2017


The Place is a Movement

An ocean swells in my mind,
Amorphous fluid potential unformed,
Until breaking on the page.

The only possibility
Out of all possibilities
Is what the actual pencil
Actually makes
On actual paper.

Again and again the tide rises,
Lines marking the shore.

5.10.2017


The contents of the bowl are never effected by the turbulence of the design.
5.11.2017


5.12.2017


5.13.2017


Naturally taking the shape of its vessel
5.14.2017


5.15.2017


Sod as a vessel for life
5.16.2017


5.17.2017


Each droplet reflects the world
5.18.2017


Bowl of light
5.19.2017


5.20.2017


The vessel reflects the potter
5.21.2017


New stacks, axially inspired
5.22.2017


While topsy-turvy cycles dissolve, frames slip away into a no-world experience.
5.23.2017


The bowl is almost empty now,
howsoever decorative,
a hollow form
and yearning.
5.24.2017


Navel gazing
5.25.2017


5.26.2017


5.27.2017


5.28.2017


5.29.2017


Perhaps, slowly, the vessel starts to fill?
5.30.2017


Spring and summer mixing
5.31.2017