Bubbles
A white figure of charts and clippings on black, riding a blue line that only goes up — the bigger the bubble, the bigger the grin.
A figure cut from white, its body a collage of charts and clippings, stands on a black ground with a blue line running under it that only knows one direction. The face has two little photographic heads for eyes — someone else’s certainty looking out. Around it the usual weather of a late cycle: a dollar sign, a million written as if it were a temperature, the markets are manipulated, return my investment.
The bigger the bubble.
The grin is implied. The line will not stay. The figure is built from the paperwork of the rise, which is the only material a bubble ever has.