Today I picture my inner life as a chamber of sightlines negotiated in plain view. Discrete “walls” mark what I keep private; “stations” stand for lucid points of attention. I allow a connection only when nothing obstructs it, so every line is a permission rather than an assumption. The drawing becomes a ledger of mutual visibility—paths that exist because space, restraint, and chance agree. Where a corridor would graze what is already known, it yields; where a span can cross cleanly, it speaks. I am the pattern of these arbitrations: clarity earned by the routes that remain.