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I. 1. child by the ocean at night: a painting [left frame] did you know that the ocean orchestrates ten thousand songs at night by the waves crashing against against black rocks, moonlight capping the crests whiter than white opals. singing "morning morning mouring mouring doves doves" while seagulls swerve overhead, scavengers of trash lining the golden sands, gray in the dark. "ocean mother, mary would you give birth to me once again? this time as siddhartha: i would enjoy the first 26 years before diving headlong into your magnetic, powerful waves. drag me out to sea ...." [centerpiece] i'm at the edge of a precipice. golden eagles are circling below, their feathers as if spots in midas' garden. but they're not eagles -- black vultures are circling ten thousand feet below, snapping up bits of years-dried meat. it's sunny, bright, golden life-giving, but at the same time, there's black rain, acid and dreary. [right frame] in the cold forbidding predawn, a child is playing on the wet sand, tickling the sea shells with her toes.

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