From where we are sitting, there are collected (as a kind of decoration) three dried tumble weed type plants. The general structure of each is identical, a few stick-sized, stubby “trunks” that burst out into a cacophonous ball of branches and thorns. It would take disciplined attention to follow a single branch — so twisting and near-unaccountable is a single tendril; but ultimately the signal is easily separable from the noise. Tumbleweeds are plants whose self-reflexive and self-reinforcing structure allows them to roll, for far-reaching germination — but should a favorable condition not be found it has no other option to carry on the genes (like ending up in a studio as ornamentation).  

Like personality, a tumbleweed forms then detaches, borne away by a larger force to pursue some purpose. We are inclined to say that one main advantage we have over this flora is conscious reasoning. But this power as evinced everywhere comes with its own internal looping (no matter how intricate it appears). Perhaps one thing can be said about all of it, formation is one’s power and constraint.