I have this memory, many times over actually, of lying in bed not able to fall asleep and getting caught up in the sounds & smells riding the cool night air in through the window by my bed. Often there’d come a point where it felt like I could actually dive into that stream and slip, my mind at least, out the window. It’s been a long time since I’ve been able to travel like that. Yet somehow the experience found its way to the page, summoned by the alchemy of paint, and ink, and thread, and salt, and collage, and plant dyes.