There was a lead in from the previous quarter that I never got around to fleshing out.
Maybe I'll make it back here to recount what it was. I don't feel like it at the moment I'm writing this. Know that there was much gnashing teeth and many hot tears. Some of the anxiety still echoes in the dark hollow of my head like the big bang throughout our universe, though not as epic or divine.
I think of John Chamberlain's sculptures of urethane foam. They rest on display at Chinati in Marfa, Texas. He folded, molded, knotted, squeezed and shaped the familiar yellow furniture foam using hands, blades and rope. He recently described those works of his as "constipatory".