The space consumes the form and the form the space. The terrain absorbs itself. Color sops up difference. Separations pinch. Holes twist open. Pathways stretch from crevices. This strange material is caught in a stagnant churn. Reforming the form without any original form to begin with and no final form to reach. Tossing and tumbling into itself, it ingests what it discharges and discharges what it ingests. Its gestures are traces; its cracks experiences. A static vortex suspended by its own force hovers through the emptiness.