( oil painting by me / also me )

The Lineaments of Gratified Desire.

“The Watchers

Beneath the rampart, when the bending palm
Draws languid fingers through the opening bars
Of wind-borne ocean music, with pale stars
On lips and eyes, sit in a holy calm

The watchers of the dooms, and far away,
With orange fires and marbled stain of blood,
Sinks through the wrathful slanting of the flood
That citadel devoted by the birds of prey.

See! Towers alone remain, like jewels ablaze,
Points of a sinking crown. The watchers now
Draw back in haste, save one with troubled brow
Who seeks those coming through the rain and haze.”

—Charles Spear

Distant Pigeon.

Because infinity is already here (in the form of fractal texture) there’s no room or need for another. Yet the multiverse remains, as a metaphor for ultimate contingency.

Theme from Eeviac.