William is not a curator.

"Have you ever spent an hour or so preparing a meal and then as you loaded an entire plate with this food it all drops on the floor?

"Yes."

"Well you have to be careful. That has never happened to me."

"What?"

"I'm bothered by intellectual relationships."

"OK."

"I want one that is tactile."

"You won't get one using words like that."

"Intellect can make a relationship a museum. You spend most of your time in the beginning discussing your idea of how it should go, what philosophies you are going to use to hold it together, while not realizing that you are now in it. That it is meant to be driven but by something more powerful and out of your brains control. But you've decided on architecting this sterile environment. Calibrating it all intellectually and until you feel it has begun. Then you now have to hold all of this in place because people will be touring it."

"You've thought about this."

"I have."

"OK."

"Calibration, architecture. All this to avoid something soft, vulnerable, emotional, tearful and love extracting. It is such a warm opportunity, such a vulnerable state and such a strong and powerful witnessing. An opportunity for something ever expanding and instead we try to build something intellectual that's also a carriage for other peoples inspiration as we hold it still so it can be toured."

"Who wants to witness all of that bloodletting. In a museum no doubt."

"I know. Who wants too? I want to be tactile though. I want to be touched. I want to touch. I want to stop thinking. Stop processing. Done with taking my cerebellum out for a walk so that my friends can comment on how cute her little coat is."

"Your dog's name is cerebellum?"

"Well thinking is a bitch."