There is a drawing of a sturgeon on the flyleaf of an 18th century bible in my village church. It is, of course, anonymous. It’s persistence doesn’t need an author.
I brought the Tantra catalogue back to my studio in 1971. This action was, even then, routine.
A very large hoard of unaligned publications has accumulated.
Things have, literally, just piled up. Chance and fortune have had their way.
Which circumstantial accumulation is my archive?