most of it i don't understand, the symbols and numbers of lapsed industry, the arcane tags of graffiti artists, the kkk (well that i comprehend), the way it all blends into a sense of place, where the makers are absent, the symbols their ghosts make their quiet statements, under seeping calcified water, rust, and time, under the gaze of erosion we bring in a kind of unspecified reverence, an art of decay and creation beyond will and use, beyond market forces, beyond for a moment law and control, a slowing society of likeness and landscape in a country of unlikeness.