I am painting every day, with my hand, in my mind.
The numbers have led to words, sentences, text, not read,
but heard. Paintings form from the ear, aurally. It's odd
to watch this as I shift, scrub and smooth the
surface of things, these pictures.
Listening space and listening object exist simultaneously.Perhaps snowbound sight lifted sound out.
Perhaps it is this twinned geography of place between continents,
disembodied persons.
Here is where your voice and my voice reify, pleach.
Here is hear, the ear as an eye.
