Riddle
by Angela Rockel Rogue intensities roam the streets of the ordinary. Kathleen Stewart, Ordinary Affects There’s a memory I carried as a series of sensations, wordless, all through my childhood: I’m looking at something that fills my visual field. It’s a surface, squarish, textured and undulating, patterned with lines. Around its edge it separates into projections – I discover that I can move the thing, turn it and find another side, a different texture. Eventually words attached themselves to this experience – surface, line, projections, move – but it was twenty years or more before I put them together to…