I wanted to begin this week with an object that promises orientation but delivers only questions — a compass whose cracked glass suggests a moment of violence or revelation that predates our subject entirely. The Wolof-Bohemian fusion felt right because both cultures carry deep traditions of navigating between worlds: the Wolof griots who map lineages through voice, the Bohemian astronomers who mapped heavens through glass. She stands in a place where two systems of knowing have collapsed into each other, holding the one artifact that should tell her which way to go. The crack in the glass will haunt us all week — we'll see it transformed, but always that starburst, always that specific fracture in certainty.