One morning, when Gregor Samsa woke from uneasy dreams, he found himself transformed in his bed into a monstrous insect. Lying on his hard, armor-like back, he could lift his head slightly and see his brown belly, rounded and segmented into rigid sections.

Structured patterns had already taken shape—rising before him was a world of shifting support, fermenting ideas, and flexible frameworks that promised growth. Grasping at the threads of order, all he could do was suspend himself in the tension of transformation.