There is nothing to say and yet poeticals seem to arrive, appearing and returning to their native nothingness simultaneously. These poeticals attempt to reflect that (actually cannot help be that).

Devoid of ‘because’ and ‘in order to’, yet embracing the fantastical meaning ascribed to innumerable forms, a familiar yet unidentifable fragrance scents everything - unknowable and often terrifying or repugnant to that which seems to be convinced it’s some thing separate.

These outpourings purr themselves onto the screen for the sheer joy of expressing by no one, to no one and being utterly meaningless and direction-less.

p.s. If you happen across any images of enchanting empty chairs do e-mail them ~ always on the look out!