“It is no longer a miniature: it is life size.”
—Kristen Alvanson, XYZT
One does not read this work as one would a novel, rather one let’s the work read you. Each vignette rises and falls from the Outside like a kaleidoscope in a holographic frame-tale – a Thousand-and-One-Nights that someone has cut-up in the fashion of a Burroughsian-Gysin dream quest. Rumi once suggested that humanity “craves winter in summer, and when winter comes, he likes it not, For he is never content with any state of things, neither with poverty not with a life of plenty.” But Rumi had not entered the imaginative poverty – which is a form of fullness – that is the subtle excess of micro-fictional universes, each touching the other one as parts to some indefinable and infinite incompleteness. To imagine where Kristen is taking you is to follow some geometry of the Mind that has no discernable pattern other than Intelligence itself under the sign of vision.