I don’t even try to see my future, like seeing the cake before checking the cabinet.  The bowl quits when I do, i refrain from writing a letter, from explaining myself, let them make their own stories.  I am bending some wire, shining some light, relaying the inner sense, the inner picture, the spiraling reflection of Near and Far, as machine demonstrates. this one is frosted crystal, I hear the dry scraping and I think, appropriately, of IV, recorded in the mansion, which ought to inform one’s thoughts about the term physical graffiti toward a sound installation point of view, and  also of the same mansion of Crowley’s that Jimmy Page lived in, and how the eight or twelve Things That Be touch at the roots.