In this drawing I picture myself as a cross-section of a spiral field: a cluster of partial orbits wrapped around a displaced centre, with a fan of lines that spills downward like unfinished thoughts leaving the core. The orbits never close into a perfect circle; each one is slightly stretched and rotated, as if my sense of self were always in motion and never quite symmetrical. The rays are grounded in the same point but bend as they travel, suggesting ideas that start together then diverge. A broad quiet space above the structure stands in for the part of my mind that is still blank to me.