Rifling with implied sentience, imbued with infinite potential, interfacing the vast mosaic. The creative confluence, igniting the silence, casting out any doubt. The spiral revolving, letting itself go, to become the wave, the particle, the dust, the rock, the sphere. Becoming the conscious observer, to ask the questions. Running backwards to see where it all begins, only to be captured and rolled over again. Better to stay the course, see where it’s going, maybe somewhere, anywhere, possibly some place that it’s never been.
– Josh Fleming
Image by: Joe Bergeron