stack

Somehow I report only parts of it. I notice stacks of things everywhere. It comes from a formal art education partially. I learned the importance of repetition and pattern, so much so that I see it everywhere and in everything. I see it in my own work and the work of friends – more and more and more until a pattern is established and the product flows out. I like to resist things. I resist products but get exactly that. What you resist will appear or some such. Stacks of repetition. Stacks of goods in transit. Stacks of ideas. Stacks of whores. All things possible.
I’ve passed this stack for days, that little bastards, so beautiful curled up with the snow and brick. Bah!