tipi? No, it's not a tipi. Yes, with no doubt this would be the very first association, since A, and especially A, looks like a tipi, reminds a tipi. Only this bar doesn't fit.... this floor-ceiling.... If not a tipi then a pyramid? Here we should answer a question whether A is a cone or not. If it is a cone, then it is not a pyramid (unless it is a very special pyramid, a conical pyramid, so very special and unique, that nobody has ever heard of it and seen it – by the way, mounds and tumuluses are not considered pyramids); if it is not a cone, then it is a pyramid, or two pyramids, one on the top of another, though the lower one is cut, has no top and is a trapezium pyramid, although not a step pyramid, yet it's not so difficult to imagine a step A. A pyramid make us think about noble materials: stone, glass, crystal. While here we have clay and wicker. Well, a shack is a shack – has anybody ever heard of shacks made from stone, glass, or crystal?

In a marble shack with crystal windows we were free of mournful thoughts....

Windows? There are no windows. There are but slits, fissures, cracks, gaps between branches and twigs – thus the world sneaks delicately into the shack through its walls. The wicker filtering walls.... And you are sitting in the upper space, on the first floor – we might write – and you are reading. You filter the words, you drawl them not through your teeth but through your mind, you crash them like nuts, you husk them and drop broken shells down, and they fall through the sieve floor, through the basketry ceiling onto the lower level, onto the ground floor. When the lower space is filled, like an ash-pan, then we clean it, we take out the word debris, rubbish, waste and muck to recycle it into shiny metal, bloody bricks and green meadows..... Then we consider the session over.


Oh, the wind! I forgot about the wind. The wind blowing the shack through, stabbing and piercing, whizzing and whistling, chaotically plucking the wicker strings....
Airing the head. Hurricaning the mind.