顔　Kao

Most of the time what is here is a cloud with no shape.

Three times in twenty seconds the clearing sharpens. During it, the points move
from where the cloud is toward where the face is.

When they arrive, it is the face of a cat. A round head, two pointed ears, two eyes,
a small nose, one mouth, three whiskers on each side.

When the clearing falls, they scatter again. The three are three different expressions.
The clearing and the expression run on different periods, so the same face never comes twice.

Not one point is added and not one is taken away. What increases is only the relation between them.

The eyes and the mouth break up earlier than the outline.
On the way out, the expression stops being readable first, and the face comes apart a little later.
On the way in it is the other way round: the outline forms, and the expression enters after it.

Reduce the points and at six hundred and twenty-five the outline stays as a dotted line.
At forty nothing can be identified. At one, only the path of that point is left.

This is the shape of reading a face.

The same thing happens on this side. When you read anxiety or delight in someone's face,
what you are reading is how points are arranged. Change the arrangement and the reading changes.
Scatter the arrangement and what you were reading is nowhere to be found.

That anxiety and that delight were not lies. While the relation was clear, they were there.

pbpaste > f.txt && printf %s "$(cat f.txt)" | shasum -a 256