~

The blessed release after triggering a spray paint canister. Paint particles erupt helter-skelter from the nozzle tip. A hole opens and fills the expanse. Paint particles settle, but never rest. They wait for a cue unbeknownst to an outsider, and then rise. Blink and you will miss a subtle movement within a concentrated collection of pigment. Then, sure as can be, the Nozzleheads emerge; destined misfits and outcasts.

A tuft of fabric floats by and nestles itself into a scribble of wire. The Nozzleheads' curious nature is piqued. Playful and airy, scraps of colourful fibre are caught in the wind. Fabric clusters and organic wire structures outstretch, a tapestry of scraps amassing. A blot on the landscape is what it is. A bold interruption in space. An unkempt environment, magnificent in

colour, existing in stark contrast to a Nozzleheads graphic sore-thumb body. A blot on the landscape is what they are to each other. Their embrace would surely doom all things right in the world... wouldn’t it?

Yet, as if by design, an organic blanket of fabric scraps swells, sweeping up Nozzleheads in its path. Vines of wire and leaves of fabric curl around their extremities. Wire is for structure and pleasure. Fibre for comfort and shelter. A delicate balancing act tethers the bold and quick-witted Nozzleheads to a network of fibre and wire. The upper-hand is consistently passed off, back-and-forth, in a wild symbiosis.