Dust Dive Flash - Closing Night Party of the Native American Film & Video Festival, New York City

Dust Dive Flash is warm, gentle, wavering in and out of structure, playing tug-of-war, pointing out the shapes in the clouds, there is a monster coming, run, run, look back, is it coming?

Eating sushi in the city at midnight. I've walked those lines before and I'll walk them again before I'm done. If my heart burst, would you be there to catch me? If my heart burst, I'd fall to my knees. This sad violin shows just how thin skin is. It could be pulled too taut, could break, could show every vein in blue and red like strange rivers in a field of flesh. This trembling piano is letting out all the ghosts, all the sad and lonely souls who's graves no one visits anymore. But the triumphant guitar just pulls it back, pulls it back from the edge, shows these lost souls tenderness. Strong and steady, the percussion keeps this train moving; don't look back, it's all in the past now. If you look ahead, you'll see the lights of the next town on the horizon. You'll see the night turning into dawn. You'll see hair turning into the dog, you'll see water turning into wine. Just in time. You won't regret this.

Yellow c36 with painted teal labels with tear-drop shapes cut out, nestled inside a white Bradpack with tear-drop shapes cut out of the edges. Two inserts - one yellow, one teal, both loose. Abstract orange and yellow block-printed on top. Each one is slightly different; limited edition of 42. $6 in the U.S.; $8 anywhere else in the world. To order, email eden at digitalisindustries dot com.