Stay on it. I’m here to show you a new system of love. All the codes have new rhythms, new silences. There is a clean beat. People are usually tamer on the floe of music, so you can be needlessly
Bill Traylor
Everyone is pointing to exemption. To the sky, the blue asylum. To the man, who must work. The birds are all-knowing—to the point of disinterest—but the drinking man is off balance, his spirit is exposed. He is confused by his
Gego
The line destroys, leaps from the point, bold; stretches out bodily to sketch a world: an open plane of bliss, brilliant and civilized. Mankind inhabits this patience of light. Each one, given luck, may find his locus here. With my