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#a70 :: Wax puddle

April 23, 2008

ENLARGEA good wax flow speaks of lava, of alchemy, of the mystery of colloids and half-liquid things.

Born of chaos from a self-immolating candle, it cannot be recreated manually, yet could not really exist without the hand of man first having cast its ingredients.

I picture tiny warriors from a distant world battling for its high ground, the errant shots from their badly aimed plasma weapons melting new craters and puddles into its glossy, translucent flanks, their hobnailed combat boots leaving behind tiny scars.

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