I picture my identity as assertions that never fully run together—measured pulses that travel along hidden lines of balance. Each triangle seeds three inward impulses; instead of continuous strokes, I speak in discrete beats that begin, pause, and begin again. Where many of these directional beats would leave a region “beneath” them, I whisper a secondary voice: faint, oriented hatching that reads as shadow. The piece becomes a registry of pulses and their implied planes—structure declared by line, relief hinted by restraint.