There are two ways of spreading light; to be the candle or the mirror
that reflects it - Edith Wharton
A thin strip bearing a systematic orchestration of primary pigments seized my attention as I jaunted from the first array of exhibits onto the subsequent ones in the reminiscing excursion within the confines of my mind. An intriguing ensemble of geometry interspersed with lifelike human forms compelled me to walk in the direction of this depiction. On observing the artwork closely, surprisingly enough and very contrary to my conjecture of gaining clarity, it only heightened the intensity of my perplexities.
Inherent or innate, perhaps conditioned or acquired,
the environment, the repetition, the cause of conditioned spontaneity.
They emerge.
The pen touches the paper and there is a sort of self emergence or self organization.
The two curves start to shape themselves cradling the bigger curve which surfaces almost from nowhere,
the moon manifests itself nesting the sun.
It flows. It isn’t me.
But it is a part of me.
It is my inspiration.