Serifs of times new roman or strokes of chinese calligraphy or smudges of handwriting reveal the ways a tool has etched a surface. In short quick stabs, in attenuated strokes, in the push and pulls to stop and to start, in the difficulties it had to turn a corner.

Each letter a creature that could hold its own weight. The steady wobble of some characters like a spinning top, carrying heft balanced above a ballet point. The branch along which letters rest into a sentence, the dangling tail of letters that drop below.

Words are the momentary fixed images of oceanic movement. Meaning made complicit by real constraints of gravity and mass and time unto corporal manifestation. A herding and tending of marks and gaps bare the traces of its history of tying together and cutting apart, knotting and enfolding, forgetting and return.