Music develops according to its own laws. Water in Mahler. Catfish in the Mississippi. Consciousness cries out for a surface. A lake like a front yard festooned in Christmas lights.
Some sums simmer all summer while some sums summon Sumatra.
But what I like about shadows are vallies. The unconscious strikes me as a form of blueprint, most of which correlates with the open air. But to be really abstract requires a chimera. And a camera made of water Neglect A mess is not a thing but a process. Now that's a real mess.