Fog enveloped me in the early morning as I walked a remote beach to the mouth of a winding river with a three-foot entrance to the ocean that changes width with every incoming wave. A raven paralleled my course and perched on driftlogs, waiting, daring me to catch up, and when I did, would lift off and land on another driftlog. I wanted a closer look at raven and meandered over to meet the bird. We met. It didn’t fly off. We got down to it.
Later that morning, at work, I designed an ad for the Klan that featured chicken fried steak, gravy, stars and flags. I thought about the river, raven. I thought about the juxtaposition of these moments, and how you can make money from one, none from the others, but one will bankrupt, the others enrich.