" I had an ominous maternal Grandmother, who kept a red-handled fireman's ax by her bed, as well as an ice-pick, brick and hammer. My artist mother dreamt of her in the form of a grappling white octopus, which was perfect after the way of dreams. Old age and dissolution, combined with Grandma's innate power, unsettled. As a ghost, I see her swim through air as through abyssal waters."

Previously.