A painting from a dream moves through writing and ritual to receptive drawing. Psyche and the work move together. I work slowly, in a spiral movement across registers; around and around, deeper and deeper, circling something I cannot name or fix in place. My work and the circumambulation connect with each other; generative, always in process. Each element of the work carries traces of the others. They cluster. Across different temporal and spatial moments. Visible, invisible.

I feel psyche's attention and I reciprocate. I give psyche attention and it jumps up to meet me.

The work and its elements touch the ninefold year; solstices, equinoxes and cross-quarter days. Fire, burnt wood, black charcoal at Samhain. Weak yellow and watery paint at Imbolc. The materials matter. Prima materia is first matter; nascent, pre-organisational, non-discrete without being undifferentiated, distinct without being bounded. It arrives or it does not. Beauty. Pulsating blackness. A soft coal-cloud. The black becomes gold without losing its blackness. It undulates.

My attempts to understand and articulate this circumambulation are part of the work. Theoretical writing, essays, conversations. Helpful and limited in equal measure. They get me so far. Articulations that keep falling apart. The symbolic reaches its edge and I return to making.