Sitting underneath her lofted bed, Anna delicately opened a blue portfolio. "It's just about the simple shape of the fucking letter," she said, as she turned over sheets of decorated graph paper.
Each sheet records a specific letter, and while it might be about the simple cursed shape, it's also about the meaning that a single shape can make through repetition. While they get flipped up and down, or mirrored, they're never sideways, because, as Anna said, that doesn't compute.
"That's a parade," she said, pointing to letter __ (pictured below).
There are 3 variations to each letter. Some border on word-play, while others come the real world.
"I know it's in the news and stuff, but what the fuck? I think I'll do it," she said, in reference to ___.
After ducking for an hour, I took my photographs and collected my belongings, so that Anna could get back to watching her Noam Chomsky YouTube channel.
"I mean, the internet is amazing," she said. And watching a Chomsky lecture on Derrida and deconstruction? "It's like stepping into heaven."
As I packed up my bags, she held up one more. "Here's my snake," she said, holding three taped together sheets of Ws.