“It is we who are the measure of what is strange and miraculous: if we sought a universal measure the strange and miraculous would not occur and all things would be equal.” -G.C. Lichtenberg
Length of a quartz stone shaped like a tooth—2.1″
Height of the flagpole visible from my window when standing in front of my sitting area—2.2″
Length of the clipping of the name “John Dee” cut from, if I recall correctly, an illustrated book on the subject of treasure hunting—1.8″
Length of the head of a green ceramic woman who is clutching her temples, but whose expression is too muddled to interpret as either fear or ecstasy—2.2″
Length of a forked twig I keep for a yet-to-be-determined purpose—7.1″
Length of a small drawing of a plan for a garden that looks like a cluster of lichen or candy or lungs—6.9″
The length of one half of a pair of clippers I found once in a parking lot, and to which I haphazardly ascribed prophetic importance—3.4″
The length of an old key—2.6″
The distance between a broken figurine of a woman in a dress (bottom half) and, occupying the same shelf, a copy of Freud’s Interpretation of Dreams—2.2″
The height of a man in a leather jacket putting out a cigarette as seen from my window at 7:10 in the morning—0.5″
The length of a found puzzle piece that is entirely white, and which has long been separated from its set, and whose provenance remains a deep source of contemplation—1.7″
JA, confined with a ruler
April 2020, Ottawa.