CLOAK/3.6vThe Weaning from Cloak—A Useless and Inappropriate Figure of Speech—Trishna's series of conceptual sketches for the design of an electronic compact which snaps shut upon recognizing the face in its digital mirror. |
| Just before her last year in art school, her brother removed Trishna from the drug, in secret, by selling her—along with all her friends—the Providence placebos. In response to their outrage he made remarks about karma. He's the nicest local dealer and has kept his reputation—maybe the rumors of risking his bad side even enhance it. |
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Left with identities they can no longer fulfill, outlines traced like record tides upon the beachfront wall— a fabled past, at twenty-one—Trishna and her friends call themselves former false prodigies. Nearing graduation, too old to start over, no longer deaf to doubt's time-consuming nagging—Are they really qualified to paint a painting?—thoughts they haven't had in years, if indeed they ever had them, waste their time. The silliness of the enterprise intrudes, a cartoonish voyeur third who'll never leave; while daydream fame becomes a regular wooden cuckoo bashing out the tacks around its door, a blind insistent mechanism and antler-clashing. |
| And how will they make money? |
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Approach the humming state of busy part your knees and lips rock open safely be harbored and absorbed. |
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The reassertion of the wish to transcend type—to be singular, the only one who does a certain thing. No longer Cloaked the inner debate over whether to settle— for this moment for this setting for the introduction of a thought for this audience as worthy for this number of witnesses, at least, as sufficient.    
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