It launched filament after filament after filament out of itself, ever unreeling them, ever tirelessly speeding them. The spider is the weaver of emergent phenomena, the seamstress of intricate networks. Pounds of glossy eggs pile on top of each other, forming micro emulations and mountainous fractures as it made its way through the piles of zygotes. nested in wood. Nested in strings. I understand my interdependence with nature, it said, that I am the canvas. Sentient nocturnal entities traverse darkness, finding artifacts left behind by the sun’s naivety. It left the nest for a little bit to join the escapade. Its weightless body crawled down synthetic fields, another form of network when carving the ruins of humans the same as anthills. After making its way down the spine, it came upon a snake with wings. Create a trail of gloss in the shape of your desires. Yes, when the moment arises, I will do as you ask. Then lead me into the Ether so that I may become a part of the atoll. One of its legs started to bloat and detach from the body, then regenerate as the genetic circuits guiding the formation of structures from embryonic development began to cause its stem cells to split and multiply. Regenerative Beings co-existing on this plane. Possessing the ability to heal. The devolving of pathways in order to morph and transform. The spider made its way to a coral shaped growth. There were tendrils sliming their way through intricate tunnel passageways which could be seen through the spider's kaleidoscope lenses. Puffs of lilac gasses spewed out of the tunnels along with squirming airborne ciliates. An axolotl emerged from the fortress, all shimmering and vibrant, swimming through Air. Give me one of your eyes. Here, now may I lay my spawn in your fortress? Yes, if only to liberate the despotism of the passive eye. Suddenly immersed in water, struggling for Air, fluid began to fill the arachnid's abdomen. Exoskeleton shed, emerging the color of a blue bird’s egg, swimming quickly toward universal unity. Down came the rain and washed the spider out. Out came the sun and. Out came the sun and. Out came the sun and. (Out came the sun and.) … Floating through corridor after corridor, Eternal Arthropod came across an active hybrid antill- volcano. The ants were digital projections from an unknown source, programmed with the potential for matter manipulation and cannibalistic tendencies. Without a light Upon an arc of white. I find resonance in the deepest night. Ovular, unfabricated, and rough to the touch. Phosphorescent radioactive shards travel at frequencies of light, creating iridescent venations in the water. The Signals sensed Eternal Arthropod’s presence instantly and led it inside an unknowable matrix of indeterminacies. Blinking eyes spectated them unfeelingly as they traversed through each green glowing portal, each leaving a layer ooze. Portal after portal. Rooms filled with clay, mountains and spores. A machine made of liquid silver flooded time and space, drying as quickly as it had melted into each grooved ravine. All that was left trapped in the mold was Eternal Arthropod and the miscellaneous vestiges, frozen in time but still conscious. Still feeling. My strategies for co-existing with slime allow me to sweat yogurt out of every pore in my body. Shiny and wet. Seeking cognitive balance within the multiplied nebulaic pattern that is my song, my imprinted body. Networks like these redefine the pseudorandom procedures of space, for outside forces beyond the scope of its own dimension are still active. Eternal Arthropod could feel the weight of the water become weaker as the molded ant colony matrix was mined from the ocean’s floor. A spider sewed at night Without a light Upon an arc of white. If ruff it was, or shroud of home Itself, Itself informs of immortality - its strategy was introverted caving in. Molten contrived realities attempting to flood the harmonious networks of ants with silly manifestations. Yet dematerialization is not a mirage and the herd was never meant to be harvested from the nondeterministic sphere. Even the eggs it laid hatched not as a false utopia, but an unknowable complex Being forged by itself. It left its body and watched as its legs expanded and grew to the size of time, grasping upward, creating experiences in the margins of matter. Trichobothria are activated by gusts of particle movement, weaving in and out of each other in spirling entanglements. All that remained was a pond, isotropic and gray.


With Love, Violet

Thank you.
mayma, fadre, grace dashnaw, alisa rose, david kwan, tristan arnold, vinny luciani, celia hollander, andrew mcIntosh

Mastered by Vinny Luciani
Artwork by Violet Hannesena