dreams yes yes, last night i slept fitfully, woke and realized fans were needed in the gallery, the great bird coasting by, perhaps text would not appear on the monitor if the first chapter were run, silently, as if in evidence of this vital and constant tuning;;;

then

Oceans of Splendour (film)
one speaks the language of technological love, even here, digital and tuning, roiling waves direct from the romantic era backgrounding what is perhaps the only American film, yes, that may be made, at this point in time, in this space, this space of California, this incontrovertible aporia.