Splashed, we run inland, past disintegrating screens of seagrass, charging the woods. Sandspurs prick
our bare feet—prompting us to a hopping dance, so that if you look at us, we’re a picture.

Drawn in broad strokes, for instance, I am blushing in my swimsuit. And, resting now, you admire the
crazy leaps of squirrels between trees, how they seem to swear in their own language.

It makes you consider all the stunts of nature—particularly those born of prior diminishment. What it
means to feel proud again, these molecules among their associates.

Lento. The same song is playing. In review. Hairs touching with light, we abandon our dirty veils and
form is reduced: a huddle of lines in abstraction…

for we have something of which the streets in this little town must remain innocent –a certain
naturalness in attitude and posture…

like the way we peer to the ocean now, quietly knowing…that this sun sets but never surrenders; if we
look down hard facts, we’ll accomplish anything.

Alex Duensing. Graduate of William Paterson and Columbia? Yes. Ran for St. Petersburg, FL City Council? Yes. Won? No. Stopped Mayan Apocalypse on rooftop with performance art? Yup. Strange but nice fellow? Clearly. Able to create mechanical engines that run completely on the energy a person creates while appreciating a painting? On delightful rare occasions.