Where does the vanishing point go? The Vanishing Point first published in Solum Journal Volume IV I stood in a dusty gallery with an aged landscape— framed with foreground trees bent inward beneath blue, the horizon’s steep sky enfolded over burgeoning branches, in view distant figures, a lifeless horse, blurred— the artist’s lines swallowing, their end, a destiny, inferred and I wondered— at its two dimensions, man-mixed colors, the curtain of trees of knowledge, of life, framing the scene, forging skyline— that what is formed with words, and dust could converge with what’s imagined, a promised line between earth and heaven— so that my eyes have nowhere else to go— but to that point, invisible, but known, the place where storied trees are fully grown.
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The Vanishing Point
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Where does the vanishing point go? The Vanishing Point first published in Solum Journal Volume IV I stood in a dusty gallery with an aged landscape— framed with foreground trees bent inward beneath blue, the horizon’s steep sky enfolded over burgeoning branches, in view distant figures, a lifeless horse, blurred— the artist’s lines swallowing, their end, a destiny, inferred and I wondered— at its two dimensions, man-mixed colors, the curtain of trees of knowledge, of life, framing the scene, forging skyline— that what is formed with words, and dust could converge with what’s imagined, a promised line between earth and heaven— so that my eyes have nowhere else to go— but to that point, invisible, but known, the place where storied trees are fully grown.