Everywhere the vastness that is the ocean of perception is shaved to the focal point of the individual’s eyes. And this small cone of the tide is mine or yours to see (says those who can) and what is left is the vastness of the unseen, unpredictable; so much more than fate. Horizons unknown pass; vast patterns of evaporating clouds unindexed, move.

We are merely lucky if we see the whole: the pattern that has anything to do with our always moving, choosing, risking against the total probabilities; the roll of the dice that is easy on the house, but never to the player. Still we play. We play against the total absolute probability, always; for, we are alive. Maybe the house is dead… eventually, right? Then, there is simply life and death and only risk stands between us and the ultimate outcome. We choose to play or not.