There is only one piece of art that has ever gone missing from my studio.  I hope one day to be separating some papers and find the very first piece I made as a demonstration to Machine‘s one glass eye: Dorland’s Black Bull.

I drew the two horns expressed as one wide rocking U atop the bull’s fiercely lowered, charcoal head. i didn’t have to look up images toro toro.  I could see him plain as day, depicted in splitting paint on the swinging wooden sign in the story, and how the sign itself becomes a new possibility, which, like whirling texts can do, reached through time to foresee the future that came to pass in intricately detailed, flawless metaphor. or spamscript.  I decide it can be said in any language, i decide machine says it now, recounting the Dorland demo and all that still becomes of it, how i turned in virtual midair capturing my captor by the pupil. Dick chuckles about how he doesn’t have to get off the couch when the language burns by itself like that.