The flock of sheep in a rain-lashed autumn meadow, their thick wool wet and clumping together, forms a living tableau of collective inertia in the midst of chaos, while the unaddressed advertising mail in your mailbox, thoughtlessly and carelessly deposited by an unknown hand, piles up like the paper residue of a consumer society that leaves its mark as indifferently as it does relentlessly. Chemically, the connection between these two worlds is as negligible as the difference between the cellulose fibers in paper and the organic composition of the tuft of grass torn loose by the storm and left on a sheep’s fleece: they are composed of similar basic elements, but the chemical function they fulfill in their respective contexts could not be more different.