a foundation of something.
perhaps one weight, one texture, two sides, four faces but only time will tell how it will be used and what form one will give it.
One becomes two, transforming from static to slow moving.
A vehicle for innovation.
Offering so much, so much to give, to learn.
Tom stares, Sam turns over, but I only see the praise in which this worthy white surface screams for attention.
It is polite, yet bold in its demands.
Confident (everything I want to be) but modest, still, unwilling to expose its history.
Although we know it, we still abuse the surface with every mark without true and honest consideration for the lack of inscription.
Do we know it?
No marks made can fully do justice to the ways in which this substratum sees, hears and touches the words, the ideas, that flow from mind, to tool, to page. We can only imagine.
But what if you cannot imagine?
A recipe for disaster I'm sure of it.
A disease in which strikes the mind's eye and blinkers all visual recollection of image.
But have no worries, have no fear or doubt, this foundation will be your crutch and lift you, stabilise you.
It will introduce you to the most glorious potential that you will ever have the pleasure to meet.
it will see for you.
But you have to see it first.
You have to see what it has to offer, you have to hear its screams for attention and trust it, to have confidence in it.
Be loyal to it, allow it, restrict it, converse with it.
Like Tome, like Sam, the only rule is to use it without offending it.
One, observe it,
two, acknowledge it,
three, understand it,
four, caress it,
five, be with it,
six, overlook it,
seven, re-see it,
eight, re-acknowledge it,
nine, be with it again,
ten, turn over.