Words Without Title

 

 

I have always been drawn to the archaelogical departments of museums. Shaped, inscribed stone fascinate me. I am not sure why. Perhaps it is a comunion with past peoples, perhaps the immortality of words written in stone, or maybe it is that I imagine myself engaged in some similar activity. I feel an urge to make, to fashion, carve mould, shape. It is a fundamental need, to change the physical world, to alter it in some way, to make art. Carving is a direct link to nature. Working with a natural material and limited means is something that is within reach of anyone. It is a human thing to do. It is both earthly and divine, the extension of a transient thought, moment, place.

I see words encircling Logos. I see them appearing and disappearing, emerging as an accumulation of reading of repeated passages of text.