The nature of the unknown as we experience experiences for the first time has for me a texture defined in the lines that exist between the present and the future.

It feels like a sweet taste a second time of what was left over from the night before. The feelings that come when the sight takes hold of the experience for the second time. From afar. From the luxury of time. And space and then, there in the midst of the past the present becomes more essential. More alive. More art then life. While a life far better for it.

Yes, I enjoyed your essay. It possessed essential moments of what exists when art introduces life. The wonders of where genuine stories exist. Not in the black and white but in the seams of gray, the blurred lines that define us. And the beauty of the artists attempt at finding his truth. There... lurking within the seams of his own views and perspectives. And then I wonder to the model. Did she wonder why the work had so many iterations? Was the artist lost in what she represented? Was the process a meta exam of their affairs and critically the mysteries they shared? Was the artist lost or was he at the end convinced of being completed. With her the model, with him the creator, with the art standing alone, among the blurred lines of what was and what could be, concluded. At least for now.