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