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OCD Crow has a life filled with words & images & sounds. These days, while limiting her interactions in the virtual realm and enlarging her solitudes, she is beginning to truly see how shaped she is by such selections of representation. If you take a body, a camera, a flower, a staircase in Mexico, a raging of colours vs. a hush of shadows what varying narratives have you inscribed? The aesthetic or the aural can so often dominate content for the Crow. The concern is not for displaying the self but for articulating textures, perspectives, the way pictures transcend their context and become fragments of timelessness, even notes in a symphony for the eye. When it rains so much in July,  many unexpected vagaboundings occur where one strays and leaps. Erraticism as splendour. I don’t know where I’m going with any of this. And it’s finally ok.