There is nothing less or more important than the unhinging of the interior mangle-cords and their wraparound compulsions on the thinking apparatus. The legs are like tree stumps and provide stability but for no obvious purpose. I bought some inks that I thought I would experiment with. The word strangle keeps occuring to me over and over, but I am not sure this is the right idea.
I will finish with my Guston project later. In the meantime, I am crying into my pickle jar. The tears add flavor to the delicious green tubes, giving them an interesting tang.