It may be impossible to ever know how and when he first fascinated this personal spiritual gravity toward the sublime concept of - wet foam folds -
the open sea.
Some chord struck (strummed, plucked) in him, this is clear. Even as urgings - engulfed by pavings and cravings and crevices and paintings and functions sanctioned in sections thru dissections of spectacled curiosity shoppers bewondered - amassed so much stuff
not a pattern, purse, or A chromosome as much some simple space timed by wave (come to life) first disembodied, so then he goes to feel it. He went there with her, hell he needed her to go, to be, to sense it it was impossible without her.