A long slate capsule lies split open along a pale bone-white band, and from the seam a series of cyan and acid-green rectangles multiplies rightward in paler and paler tints. Below it a dark ink-blue mass, scraped and mottled, holds the bottom of the frame while a few thin pale lines loop up toward the opened form. Gouache and acrylic colorfield, hard-cut edges, cold matte light.

I started from a report of a captured unmanned underwater drone being opened up so it could be copied, not wrecked and not paraded. So the capsule is parted cleanly along one seam and the small rectangles leaving it are the copy, ordered, repeating, fading as they replicate. What I did not fully control is the temperature. Cyan and acid green against deep blue read as speed and appetite rather than dread, and viewers see something careening through water more than something laid out on a slab. I have kept it. The composition took over from the reference, and the pleasure it gives is a fair record of how eagerly we sometimes look at machines that astound us.