To be everywhere and nowhere.
To be inside architecture.
I am buried inside the obelisk.
An endless regress.
I hate titling things. It seems so definite. I know it had something to do with endlessness and perfection and symmetry and compression.
An inversion.
A shadow carved out of the space between 4 walls…
Peter Young: Camel Dung Footprints
Conversation between Peter Young and David Deutsch
The Donner Party: A Brief History
Organizing Chaos: Tentacles Exploring the Mud
Prema Murthy's Sci-Fi Fable: Fuzzy Logic
Ball-Nogues: Under a Liquid Sky
Dorota Jurczak and Abel Auer: The Macabre Line
Jack Whitten: A Loud Noise Above
Molly Larkey: From Bombs to Believers