Divining Inflexions 2017
I throw you a deck. “Je vous les tires.”
Caught in the folds of the catchers glove, he curved and flipped the deck and threw it back.
Was it a discarded forfeit? or an approved accolade?
Marching in-between the gestures of another hand, the folded faces followed their assigned suits. As the “Beguiler” foolishly danced amongst his cues, the “Weaver of the Spindle” grabbed and fleshed out the deck into a mass of pleats. Fold upon fold she laid-in the creases, and weaved them around and into the beloved spindle. Arching every line, over, under and around she folded its flesh and hung the deck into a pair of makeshift cloaks. The points she marked and hid within every pleated curve inflected and began the movement needed for: The Was, The Is, and the Will Be.