there must be a quiet among the rolling hills of green grass spread out forever far. a depart of the every day mundane tasks seemingly surreal and disquieting sometimes. a spark that ignites the weakened flame scattering bright. starting soft and subtle working its way through the flower and sweat passing the rotten and rude. begins the breath a wheel created. record the carve of bendable curves. once decided turns in a round complete. have you seen this circle?