All dances take form in the blue mist of time. Embossed in the arches of
self-awareness, elements of being fall from chaos, to be scavenged and
collected. Faith scaffolds these elements and pattern language. Pacing the
circumference only to pendulum and return, we create mythology to comfort
times passing insanity. A mark, a puncture, sensual layering of desire to
touch an idea of feeling made tangible.
Work is the process, this is my love and struggle.
[jason headed out for the widy city in march of y2k, we wish him well in that thar big city!]
