I spent the first week writing down bands: black, orange, chalk, gold, then black again. The pole on the table looked quiet at noon, but by late afternoon each ring had begun to pull light from the room, as if the surface had been waiting for a lower sun.
The mistake is to call ornament a finish. In this work the hatch is a measurement, the curve is a route, and the small yellow flare at the crown makes the whole body answer upward.
Pattern is a way of keeping obligation visible
On the third morning I stopped trying to separate drawing from structure. Every crossed line changed the weight of the band beside it; every red seam held the next pale ring in place. A fast reader sees decoration. A careful reader hears a register being kept.
The brightest mark is never loose from the dark ground; it earns its force by belonging there.