in search, gouache and graphite on paper. In my dream, I left the lush island and hurtled across a silent ocean of stone. When I had exhausted myself, I clung to the roof of a half-submerged house. Damp shingles broke off in my hands. I reached an apple tree whose branches hung heavy with slick, ripe fruit. An apple dropped and smacked the ocean’s surface. It began to roll away, and in a final burst of strength, I flung my hand out and scooped it up.