This world – drops of color at the bottom of a glass that look like: a blue jay warning of a cooper’s hawk rising to my left. It’s shrill cry echoing through the ullage. The hawk rises forever and nowhere, the drops drift apart without tension. There is no life to contain. Glass walls dissolve in the face of emptiness, vision quivers, tries to right itself, then plunges. Seeing, awareness, consciousness – words holy to the self. These notions cease; A pillar of stone is revealed at heart, like a ship in a bottle.