She had never considered, while enjoying the bounty of flowers and fruit which followed her into the world, that when she looked at all those plants she loved so much, as beautiful as they were, she only saw half of them. The other half was here, quietly hidden underground.

The rules of chaos, a contradiction in terms, express themselves in poetry, express themselves in art, but they don’t waste their time trying to refashion the human mind, they sneakily bend around it, hiding behind truths, behind half-organized concepts, behind the things we take for granted.

Some phenomena are not about themselves. They take you one level, one dimension down into the substance of things, they are measurements of change, gauges of the inner workings of the world, consequences of movement.