in his arms .....When all the elegant code
soft fur........................... was coursing thru many antique machine memories;
set into a decaying tree trunk. .........when the interactive Couey hosted conferences,
the sound of water .........the records of delicately intellectual Rapoport installations,
down by the riverside........the beautiful Grossberger-Morales electronic tapestries
cyber cyber cyber......................were up and running;
every morning just at nine ........when gold and green letters
in song and story......glittered in rows on the old rich black backgrounds,
while the water rose........drawing occasional visitors into uncharted electronic waters,
and the deer and the buffalo play .................mirroring the souls of their creators,
come and sit by my side if you love me.....(cyber cyber cyber)
the smell of hops and honey....she sat by the creek and wished very hard
The daily in and out flow of a billion bytes......for lovers for those of her friends
the smell of green grass......who had told her on the telephone
warm stones by the river..................that they were lonely.
a red front door................ under the eves of the porch........................ dirigibles flying in all directions........ inside, the text was black....................... and then I'd wish for.................... 4 crystal goblets unexpectedly at midnight......... making love...................... a black and white document.......... hand carved napkin rings......................... we call our own...................... mustard colored tiles............... a glass of champagne.............................. along the stream for several miles........

[about this work] [opening interface]