The fabric of time...
my ancestors dealt with fine fabrics in Ireland. 
I weave threads of binary strings into glorious tapestries of me. 
My keyboard, the loom; my fabric, one breath upon the next, 
in a finite succession of heartbeats. Is this life not my canvass? 
Are these tools not my hands? And all these things about me, 
do they not comprise the palette which has been laid before me? 
Does 'art' occur as it is observed, or is it a constant, 
existing even when unseen? 
To succeed in breaking through linear TIME...
I shall surpass the length of this carcass, with certainty, 
as people continue to experience me 
in the other DIMENTIONS 
of cyberSPACE.

11.14.00

This site created by Muse Designs Questions or comments contact staff@musedesigns.com Muse Designs © 1999-2000