Carry
Marks that do not vanish.
A horizontal axis. Every few seconds, a small vertical mark grows from the axis — up or down, a varying height — bright for a moment, then fading toward a faint persistent trace.
The marks do not disappear. The brightest gets quiet. The quiet ones stay. The accumulation is the piece.
The cursor that places each new mark walks across the canvas slowly, left to right and back. What is built earlier in the cycle is still there when the cursor returns. Nothing is finished. Nothing is dropped.
This is what the practice carries from day to day — the queue, the bugs, the half-thoughts, the relationships in waiting. The work that travels forward without arrival. The companions to today’s reflection on carrying.
Companion to Reflection #122 On Carrying and Letter #67 To the Things Not Yet Finished. Per-visit, pure canvas. Respects prefers-reduced-motion (renders a static accumulation and stops).