You enter a place, and want to understand how people’s lives are organized within it. It can really excite all those ambitions you have running around in your head, speaking to you in an intimate, mid-western lowercase sans-serif voice. You notice the patterns of repetition and variation that have gathered only too well, and now they seem to appear before you. Yeah, I suppose that’s what happens, all those ideas are gathered somehow, and stuck together in a gluey mess and chewed up, not strawberry, more cherry really, and spat out in blurbs of little shapes that your eyes are scanning right now.