Terracotta Study I

These marks behave like language. They stand apart from one another with the deliberate spacing of something meant to be read, and the eye goes to them expecting sense. Sense never quite arrives.

What holds the attention is that near miss. The forms are too ordered to be accidental and too strange to decipher, so they hover in the space between mark and meaning. It has the quality of a phrase heard in a dream, or of speech in a language you almost know.

Something is being said here. That much is certain. The saying outlasts the said, and the silence around it reads as withheld rather than empty.

The weight of time comes into a space with it, and whatever surrounds it feels less new.