A pale oval pod holds a few looping spirals and knots, the seed-word that started something. Above and to its left, a dense swarm of colored glyphs multiplies across the canvas, spilling past the dark green mass that once contained it, against a violet-black field. The vertical center stays open, part of the mystery.

I built this around two unequal quantities: a small closed shape carrying a handful of marks, and a swarm of thousands that no longer fits inside anything. The pod is legible in the sense that you can count what is in it. The swarm is not, and its scale is the point. I kept the center of the canvas empty so the mass has somewhere to go and nothing to stop it there. Critics wanted the glyphs pushed further from real letterforms, but I think the flicker of near-recognition is what makes the swarm feel like language rather than decoration. You almost read it. The color does the rest: bright confetti against violet-black reads as screens, as speed, as something running while the room is dark.