I can’t look at a tapestry, too much, so I look at a nailhead, but even that starts to break itself apart after I’ve stared for a while. Things hold together only if you glance and shortly go on glancing at something else. Otherwise you see that nothing stays the same, and everything is entangled; hard to tell where one thing stops and the thing next to it begins, like a child’s watercolor that melts at the edges of each brushstroke.