As the infrequent oncoming headlights scan over you
There is something in that car
Both familiar and awful - you think you see it
Watching you from the woods as you pass
And it will be at home when you get there

                                                   from 'Capillarity', XII

How can language retrieve memories and identities? A young man, a first-generation American, explores a true story of three generations of upheaval, migration and homecoming. Rooted in autobiography and in twentieth-century Armenian history, it is also a universal story. Capillarity explores the dark corners and bright expanses of an individual's desire to break out of historical circumstances and belong to a living society and a world. In Arto Vaun's spare, lyrical fragments, personal and collective anguish and hope are caringly exposed in a language both intimate and apart. The possibilities of a future lie in the dreams of language.