I would happily be a single green blade of grass wavering at the edge of a cliff. I am not opposed to being the second red rose come to bloom. I might run, namelessly, alongside ten-thousand herd beasts on a wide savanna. Allow me the position of a minnow darting through the sea or a yellow leaf blown across the ground.
I
don’t require much. Give me either motion
or a little color.
—Mitchell Hegman
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