zeevveez, "Gnat Balls (2)," 2013
Every day, about an hour before sunset, a cloud of small insects floats, Brownian and swirling, near the apex of an invisible pyramid (the base, a complex alignment of dahlias, catmint, three red flowering currants; the edges, outlined by shadows cast from a small ash tree). They’ll dance, then disperse. Their beautiful anonymity is my conceit (I’m not meant to listen to their olfactory small talk), their spiraling without touching an artifact of my line of sight (I’m certain they’ll touch, why else dance?)—profligate geometries, purpose unknown, life-giving, nourishing delight.