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The Artists: EAK
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 BOO RITSON Standing high on an outcrop overlooking the plain, he sets off in the direction of the thought. It takes him down into a valley, where signs and traces are littered on the floor. He collects only the pieces that come to him clearly. He knows that the half-remembered ones will only delay him in the shadows, pre-cursors of a new thought that is yet to come.He fits things together as he runs, choosing narratives that interweave and discarding the rest, always seeking to rebuild the image from the trace of the one that he lost. He accumulates the terms and definitions that will strengthen his search, like the words in his mind that link to give meaning. He follows lines and tests densities, forming the edges that outline, holding things that fit together and leaving things that stand alone. He dreams one day that it will fly, flow like a song; like a bird on a wire try, in any way, to be free. |
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