THE PORTRAIT

 

 

Framing  perspective  such that  the  brain  does not  become confused, the

depth just trickery but  enough for discussion,  for proxy, for progress.  The

frame,  heavy in inception,  thins over time,  finally  disappears replaced by

full-bleed. In digital and print. There is still potential for confusion, we just

no longer care,  welcome the mismatch,  the brain  registering depth where

there is none.

 

What’s the difference between a flat image depicting depth and depth itself

if the viewer will never travel toward it. Knock  knock. Empiricism. You will

close your  eyes and I am  you today.  I will close my eyes and step back and

turn. I will watch the blood move across my eyelids, facing a bright window,

and know that it is yours. The blood. A fiberoptic crepe between us.

 

This frame  enclosing  not  a landscape  but  an image  of  the  landscape  as

appears  from  inside.  The city shimmers  today past  the sill and aftermath.

Wiry  streaks  of  light  and  lighter  smudges  carry  across,  more a  field  of

orange plaster, my wall.  To travel toward, dearth of faith in representation,

doing the work for us.