About

A slow hot day: you decide to take a walk through the town. You wander without purpose, but find yourself falling into familiar patterns, as if years of repetition have worn into the air like dimples in old stone steps. The melancholy refrain of a pop song loops its way through your head, a half-forgotten but insistent shape. In the park your attention is snagged by a small bright thing, and you lie down on your belly in the long grass for a closer look. An intricate and ambiguous architecture, a whorled maze of gloss and stain, You’d like to crawl inside this miniature world, forget yourself …