August 15, 2009

Dear BA,

I am seized by a tumult of emotions, and I must express them here, on this blank sheet of paper. What happened last night was…

No. Let me state it this way. There is a place where form meets function, where the fact that one precedes the other no longer makes a difference. You are the function to my form, or perhaps it is the other way around. I laugh at those who claim that functionality is mutually exclusive from pleasure – for have they never taken into account the functional nature of two bodies merging? And the pleasure that is derived from that – is it not a manifestation of both the system and the reversal of the system?

No. Let me state it even more plainly. There is a place where water meets land, where ducks waddle in great numbers and turn their beady eyes to watch those who pass. There is a place where lovers meet, and perhaps it is a cliché, but can we not subvert that, can we not escape the system by being within the system?

It was quite difficult to tear myself away from you this morning, but I had to go home and clean Jacques’ cage. Please meet me in the arboretum tomorrow night, though. I will have a surprise prepared.

Yours,

AB